Dragging a blue cloth

...قایق
پارچه ی آبی رنگی را به دنبال خود می کشد

wandering into the sun room
with a small question
I find my boys in repose

the acorn, lies across two beanbags
as though he had just
finished a marathon and collapsed
for want of air all legs and arms
with a fringe of needs to be cut soon hair
affordung his face privacy
he glows with youth and promise

my oak, rests sprawled in the old mamasan
hairy legs akimbo, one deck shoe on, one half off
he has sat on one hand, wedging in between cushions
the other dangles off the chair's rim, long fingers hanging
his shirt has ridden up to show tanned trim stomach
with a surfer's bleached snail trail leading to a darker hairline
his mouth slightly open as he dreams his bulldozer dreams
his hair long and now slightly thinning  curls in the humidity
he has not shaved for days and
his stubble a dusting of silver and gold
his lips are a tad dry, but still so inviting

I turn and leave them in repose
my question forgotten

I’ve spent my time dancing with the waves,
Back and forth, a fun little game.
A splendid step, a tentative twirl,
this feeling becomes no tidal wave.

I’ve spent my time yelling at the breeze,
Empty words unreturned, a relaxing exchange.
No biting reply, just the biting cold,
this courtship is no whirlwind.

I’ve spent my time trembling with the earth,
Captivating and swaying, powerful and strong.
Fearless it quakes, but not in anger
this occasion brings no after shock.

I’ve spent my time with you,
A step, a fight, a world-shaking moment.
Much less safe, much more real
naturally a disaster.

external validation
it's your drug of choice

it starts with
gold stars for
good behavior

the seed to please
it just grows and grows
into a wild jungle vine

gold stars turn into
compliments and "likes"
it feels so nice
but it's not

because you
need it
more and more
you have to
win the award

it controls you
and you don't
even know
who you
are anymore

as we
loom
our hands

tethered
like a
cat's
cradle to
the sky,

a slight shift
of foot and
the landscape
scatters
drunk
as the blue
seas of the
cloud,

the tide
strides to
the open shore,
wind in her
arms,
salt on her
breath,

every step
decadent and
rebellious,

every sip of the
wind an icy
storm,

and the sky
hangs like
a pendulum
in an old
grandfather
clock,

calling out
crazy minutes,
breathful
seconds,

i stand next to you,
knock on the door
of the airy sea
stare out,

curve like
an echo in a
cave,

a handwritten
poem, carved
out of air

while you,
boy of dream,
kiss me like
a wild sea,
restring the
broken violin
of my heart.