Lured
by unspeakable, ineluctable gravity
Kisses, vehement, and by no means our first,
speak of experience, a wordless wisdom that now gives flight to innocence,
unprecedented familiarity among two who have spoken so little
a gentle tug of war between souls, transcending feeble sensation, arriving at conversation
Solid, fervid, with perfection of cadence – a meter aberrant, fantastic, unimpeded by numerical confines

Now
a limitless tickling between two souls
like courting doves
And the smoke in your mouth became sweet,
your saliva a quenching potion of forgetfulness,
And at this moment neither past nor future have ever existed,
There is only this delicious wine of our lips and the nonsensical *******
of two sipping souls.

I was
a                                                            ­        
t                                                       ­ 
t                                         en
racted to your brok
wings.

I can almost hear snow hit the bare pavement
I can even hear the trees creak, Swaying naked
But I’m listening to my thoughts
And their deafening hum
Flowing at the rhythm of my heart
Beating numb.
And I’ve only just realized;
That there is no such thing as silence.
*Only inner peace

I will never put my trust inside
A broken piggy bank
That hole in your belly is where
You let resentment
Eat its way out

A helpless victim
With all the power in the world

Humans pay for happiness
Trading in trust and love
Empathy and forgiveness
Kind words and encouragement

You've lost your way
Looking for solace in judgement
Who led you to try to hurt me
When I've only ever known how to love you

But I'm no piñata
And I can cut myself down
Tired of feeling on display
Isolated in this foreign tree

Nothing left to do but leave
Your designated scape goat
Chased away with the light of harsh flames
Honesty is witchcraft to you

You gave your own magic away
When you stopped believing in yourself

A beautiful girl
Always looking to please
But what's outside doesn't mean a thing

You and I were one
We grew together
By pushing me
You've only been ripping your own seems

I cut myself free, remember?
While the wound is still fresh
I will go on and bond again
Friends, Family, new loving open strangers
This time, trust, love, and support
Will be deposited

While not a bad investment
This market had a crash
Instead of picking up the pieces together
You handed me the broom
I pray you find your happiness soon

Love yourself enough to know
To look inside of you

E.Poe
*Nov 2013

Tendonitis                                                       ­                                                                 ­                                        
is a small price to pay for euphoria.                                                        ­                                                          

he gasped at the brink of
                                    success
mouth agape and strained
like pulled taffy
This project
embraced him entirely
consumed like a long lost relative
Sometimes we don’t climb.                                                           ­                                                                 ­        
we dance.                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                      
It was no longer clear
whether he climbed more than
the earth climbed him: she clambered inside,
ascending further into his psyche
with every
stretched, pulsing
muscle grasp
happiness bleeds into our                                                              ­                                                                 ­     
contorted                                                       ­                                                                 ­                                          
torso-Grace.          ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                
like water running the                                                              ­                                                                 ­           
pigment lines of                                                               ­                                                                 ­                    
saturated paintings.                                                       ­                                                                 ­                      
He cried out
impassioned,
shedding the skin of his palms
again-
upturned and reaching
like a caustic supplication
endowed with
vibrating desire,
quaking faith.

This time
he fell hard.
and again,
slap mat against the grain
of success
flung downward
like a thrice worn shirt

But wait-
and watch.
She calls him weeping-
a contrite lover
and he will return
to her brutality
nursed with humility-
intoxicated with exhilaration.