the body said ‘no more!’
then the parts slowly listened
first one, and then another
margin crossed, deathdate christened
last breaths, final beating
and then the cascade complete
peace is his at the close
flesh led gently to defeat

explain the desire to me
how there are anxieties leaving from me
how I could let you gaze upon me and allow your hands close
to drag noise from my body
explain the deficit to me
how there are never enough kisses for me
how I could spend the night draped in your scent and still wish
to live in your mouth a while longer
explain the withdrawal to me
how there are now new holes in me
how I could pass the time running my tongue across my teeth
to remind me of your surgery

explain the pattern to me
the steps involved in my downfall, in the rushing water tumble toward
entrapment, solidly, inside the fragrant rich reality of
me and you

perhaps I have

hey you,
I see the proud smirk on your face
the way your mouth curls upward when you look at me,
from above
watching my body shake and tremble
I see the control you think you have
when I’m twisting and churning around in your sheets
you like me in your bed
I like me in your head
enthralling you, ensnaring you
until you don’t want any other sight than me beneath your body, changing
no other sensation than my fingers gripping your flesh
no other sound than my reactions to your deft strokes of appendage
no other taste than mine
no other scent than the lotion I put on my neck, the mingled sweat we make

I see the satisfaction in your gaze
when you’ve drawn my cries to a ******
the smug way you stroke up my body, slowly
reverently
‘I am so lucky’, you say, and I know it’s true
I smile, confirmation, affirmation, in satiation
you pitch forward and come to rest on my chest, smile against
my breast, and
in secret I start the process of analysing your murmurs, the
things you’d thought to say
‘completely under my control’, you’d said
and I’ll let it go, for now
you’re irresistible when you think you’re right

This is it:
it’s the slow-fast conversion of my brain matrices in scaffold supporting
the connection between “good” and the scent of your sweat
the swift relay from my skin through my mind back to nerves
ending in your arms; the parts of me you colour rose
it’s the speed variation in the pump of your hips; bone connects bone
shock connects shock, spark connects spark, connects and cascades
the viscous strokes of my hands against your back as you, I
it’s sighing, strikingly loud
it’s enveloping the sound of you

stick and stuck, staring out loud, divine
measures taken to absorb the churning warmth of you
in and out: breathing and stroke
the wire compilation of your hair beneath my fingers
it’s
glazing your gaze until you’ve started falling forward to
capture my sighs/breaths/moans/cries inside your own
vehicle; it’s slow seconds scraping my thoughts while you crawl
the strong strokes you press into my memory
the cusses that slither slickly out my mouth to meet your ears, relay to your
nerves
it’s the excess breath I waste on passing my messages on to you
the feedback loop, in and out
the rhythmic species we become
the invisible lines we draw, remaining afterward for too little time
making love to the sight of you, the sounds of the stereo background
loosening your tension, uncoiling your starched landscapes
the magic of being ethereal in a concrete room

If you have pride like I do, every smile and cant of hips breaks down the insecurity
bred from solitary confinement in the places where intimacy hasn’t been
In the bare moments when I should be thinking of other things I wish
your body were near mine so I can feel the heat that your
cells share with each other, with your membranous existence I wish for
your heartbeat to speed up in my proximity, sharing twin sensations in the greatest
symmetry I think there is, partnership under covers, over sheets
Standing horizontally, close nose to nose and bug-eyed, wonderment leeching out of
the pores we press together, I
want to see your smile light and catch fire, spark my sensations until I can’t help but
let you know what you’re accomplishing
so soon after we started our kind of meetings
But I don’t think it’s too late to make new eyes
And I’d like to know you so often, with such frequency
That my withdrawal distracts my other purposes
That you ruin me for all the other things
It'll pass, I know
But now, it's hard to conceive of any other way to be
Just waiting on the next time our eyes meet,
Just waiting for the time to pass
until we aren't two apart but two as one as more

and me and her:

i took her for my own, my prize animal to drill into
nothing sacred but she hid so much, buried her sonnets
under a lack of sentiment; i still breathed her in

i wanted her set in sheets, spread and arching and wanton
she would turn her face from me, so i could bite at her neck,
my hands would slide to frame her; i revered her silently

we stumbled fumbled and groped, not understanding at all
that we were two and yet one, and yet still two not in harmony
living on little scraps of her, the bits she let me borrow

my life in cans of arizona on the desk on the floor
cliff bar wrappers and crisp bags and old bits of
tissue my life in clothes littered everywhere                 scrunched pieces of fabric
        my bedsheet pulling off the mattress a box of
granola bars flattened on top of another old socks and artwork
pennies and cups i’ve yet to wash my       life in open windows and closed jars a
container of cough syrup and books i haven’t read my life in old papers and
boots broken plastic and bubble wrap my life in textbooks and
wires and cookbooks and hats and cans of arizona and things that should be in the bin

i
don’t want to leave
i just
want to be back there