When my empty bed whispers
& my room smells primordial,
I am always open
to remedial training,
other ways to see the light,
to succumb to the fight.

It's times like these
when one considers
throwing in the towel,
letting your guard down
to get loose & open up
to new experiences,
electric ones.

We love being in a feral-state,
gripping hips & pulling hair,
slapping her backside
changes the tide,
I spill inside her grind,
barking & howling
behind her sweet moon.

Swirling serpentine
Hypnotizing hood uncoiled
A deadly striker

It was a ritual scarfing
spiced-eggs at the subbase,
then heading up
to the mountaintop
to check on
the cumulous-situation.

From the banana house,
one can see for eternity
the tips of Tortola & beyond
& grow fond of such splendor.

The beauty of such moments
can sink deep & stir hearts.
Even the stoutest of pirates
can cry behind the patch,
get snatched by this passion,
reveal his hidden treasure.

My blood-eyes always
seemed mesmerized,
pleasured
by the ***-filled hours
spent down on Back Street
before each maiden voyage.

The trips to Drake's Seat
to confer with the
dreadlocked-donkey man
were always my final stop.
For he had select bumblegum-*****,
homegrown at market prices,
to change perspective
& buccaneers ya know,
certainly need that fix.

Those warm Trade Winds
whipped through
the Inward Passage
while lobsters boiled
on the shore,
and there, raised up
high on the edge,
my stiletto kniving sapphires,
I understood
the true meaning of freedom,
riding supersonic
under golden suns,
in a world
so alone & starving.

O sweet baby,
it's so magical,
this technoligical-realm
of fantasy!

My apparent want of you
is fiery, so astronomical.
I succumb to your
desirous-advances,
make love to you
in the shadows.

I can taste your
"Y" in space,
rinse
the screen-dust
off my tongue & face,
but then what darling?

French kiss you in email,
whisper sweet nothings
into my cell,
finger your text,
do you with symbols,
*** you up good in jpeg,
explode together on Skype,
hammer you on Twitter,
free flow into you with a fax,
seed you with a nice
warm stream of pixels?

O my dear lady,
I miss the feel of real flesh,
the sensation of your
feminine flower-grip,
that sultry look
in your pretty-eyes,
the wanton shuddering,
nailed-fingers streaking on my back,
your hypnotizing unrecorded-vocals
& the alluring fragrance
of your raw hot-skin.

And O I feel lonelier now,
more than ever
before this modern age of science
& hi-tech communication.

How 'bout you,
do you feel the same???
Just sext me &
let me know!
:-P...

Supercharged,
I feel your fingertips,
so electrical.
Rampantly we travel
to unknown galaxies,
where stars hear our dreams.

I see your face in the void,
taste your meteorite-blood
as it floods my soul.

Your eyes reflect Vega-system,
which I love, immersing
myself in your Heavenly
body above me,
I spiral inside you.

I cannot inhale your pheromones,
are we real here,
in these living cosmos?

Cecily burned herself with cigarettes
& scratched herself all the time,
she even used razors
to etch ******-artwork
into her flesh,
so milky white.

She was the prettiest flower
in the bouquet &
carried the most robust spirit.
Her eyes reflected
ocean-hues,
sunlight glowed off
her chopped-hair,
an Eveready battery,
she never stopped.

Just a spit of a woman,
she had the biggest set of *****
that most men
could only dream about,
die for.

And it killed me to see
her get into these
self-destructive habits.
It always left me wondering
why such a cute baby doll,
this bad *** warrior-woman,
would want to create
such randoms acts of pain.

But then again,
the answer was in her eyes,
unspoken & blue.

We came to the ice wall
in gale winds,
a forty-degree slab
glistened in our way.

Scree stung our faces,
beards frozen with snot,
we wondered if anything
sacred even existed
in this Godforsaken place.

Six-hundred meters
of free fall was behind us
to rock bottom, time
was growing short,
we had to move quickly,
before we froze our ***** off,
literally.

So there we went...
straight up the wall,
swinging our axes
like wild men
with clubs.

*****
*****
ka-*****.
*****
*****
ka-*****.
*****
*****
k­a-*****.
*****
*****
ka-*****.
*****
*****.

Breath.
Ahhhhh.
Brea­th.
Ahhhh.
Breath.
Ahh.

Whew,
thank God for
these ninety-dollar crampons,
we couldn't have done this
without them.

Ages ago, I danced
with a kind of devil
wearing leopard-spandex
through a tempest fire.

We guzzled spirits,
nuzzled in each other's arms
as we circled the sun,
whirled around the moon,
kissed every star
in the heavens above.

She put a hex on me
& I survived, still looking
for a white dove,
some peace of mind.