I shall tuck two kisses on your collarbones
Like actual children you will tell love stories to
Just below the fire, the light of your eyes,
Just above the apices of your lungs, your life force,
Hoping in your heart, inside, I slept,
     And sleep no more.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I want to bathe with our lips in the sea of our kisses,
Luring out the young laughter from the depths of your soul,
Lather the thin foam of the blue poem that is a rose sometimes,
And reconcile your senses to a deep sadness, to the ways of its touch
As though to fish for the ripple, for the boot of your heart,
And wade out your breast, your chest, your tenderness,
Drown fragile towards you, in you, as a piece,
The center, a bait for your blossomlove.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

O mystic mesmerizers you close, and weep, and burn, glorious,
And beam inward this light of night from young rose to bud maiden,
And slip, sleep, slim in my arms as in a dream I had truly lived,
Failed life in reality, championed love, lose fame, and flame,
Pressed and flavored lips with you, and savored, fashioned
The silhouettes and silences of our doing,
For you, you only, only because, had eyes that were fireworks
Fireworks imploding, captivating, and are twin mimosas, phoenices,
And are falling back perfected into a sacred place,
A mornstar to the early dew, the first of this clumsy heart.*

© 2015 J.S.P.