Kissing your scars
Your beautiful memories,
trapped in thin lines across your shoulder.

You used a knife to cut them out,
and they flowed down your arm,
mingling and mixing with your beautiful blood,
red and bittersweet
and smelling of rust.

And you cry and scream,
but you can't escape yourself.

The rattling jingle of a belt buckle
Your soft intake of breath
The way it caresses my face when you set it free
You trail your hands down,
Down across my ribs
Lightly trace my hip
Leave me kisses on a collarbone
I am so exposed
But I don't care
This darkness is warm
This darkness is safe

Books, books,
So many printed pages!
Whisper your sweet lies in my ear,
teach me to forget my black and white world,
with all the rules and expectations.
Let me taste the crisp morning air
in a fairytale.
Let me experience pain, longing, rage, love,
that I've never felt before.
Carry me away on a tide of ink.

Give me a Sarie tone poem
like light on a Monet haystack,
or Brazillian Astrud like a Matisse line.

Let me lie down in a half-shuttered room
in the south of France with Matisse
and the soft flutter
of heavy -feathered white doves,
their mild calls.

Only a little time, Henri,
before Picasso will  come with his big boots.

We should take our afternoon.

Take off your pants
Nothing will happen. Unless you want it to.
Take off your pants
I love you
It's your choice, no further than you want
Just take off your **** pants