Every time you coast the ridges of my ribs,
With the moist of tongue or the fingertip,
Every time with your lips, technics, a precision,
And crows, and ravens, and dark lipstick,
     Everywhere. Every time,
     Your body desensitizes
          My all.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

My friends, beware the leprechaun.
The gold's not worth it.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Nothing will be wasted.
I shall lip everything back,
Lift my clumsy and the naughty,
The ones that never made it
To your heart-wall.

You cannot blame me for thinking
That the flowers are all the same,
Your lily, the opened rose, the petunias.
O this garden of a body you have.
You be-tremble me, Love, even now.

So now, tonight, ever,
We will save them up,
Oh I will kiss them back to your mouth,
This love thing,

To your tongue so tender,
From your neck,
Your legs so slender,
Your shoulders, your waist,
Those young *******,
Then to your soul.

And pretend,
I won't do it all,
All over again.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Moments of impact.
There was a second there before the kiss.
The ungodly hour spent
     And the night of secret fireflies.

The grains in an hourglass,
     How innumerable still.
There was a time I yearn for emptiness.
This loneliness, heaped up on my chest,
And in the afternoons,
     The melancholic burn.

A glimpse of your body.
The affinities of flowers
     With the bud.
An eternity of this and that, of improbabilities,
     Or of unrequited love.

A night without a star.
     A day without the sun.

But the sun's without a day,
     Without you.*

© 2015 J.S.P.