i'm here.
you're here.
sometimes i get so lost in my own dreams.
i create my own reality.
or do i?
i don't know.

are you here?
and i, here with you?
i want to stay.
please don't make me leave.
i find myself craving again.
i can feel the lust passion pumping through my veins.

or is this love?

i feel what i know.
i know what i see.
i see you.
but do i know how to love thee?

please don't leave.

i want to stay in this place.
forever.

Something happened this morning
when I awoke to you lightly breathing.
It was sublime.
My chin rested on your shoulder
the skin so soft on my cheek.
I couldn’t help but kiss the sweetness.

On nights when I sleep alone
it does not matter how many blankets
wrap my restless body.
I wake cold.
Nothing is as warm as your arms.
Like that of a Texas breeze
on an August night.

I can only think to kiss
your unshaven face.  
The kisses are planted gently,
first your cheek,
then your temple,
and your forehead,
when I come to the tip of your nose
you stir slightly,
but I cannot stop.
I want it more then
the ocean waves need
the shoreline to crash upon.

Looking at your face
I smile at the odd way we met.
With a breath of *** and an intoxicated
grin we spoke.
“I don’t like you”
“Yea? Well I don’t like you first!”
Like children picking
on their first crush.
Tying to fight back the giggles.
Our childish ways still
run strong.

In your absence I sit
and watch the ticking minutes
laugh at my uneasiness.
Hours with others
are mere minutes with you.
The clocks envy
our cherished time
and tick-tock more rapidly
when we are alone.
All our time
would never be
enough.

When we get lost in each other,
the way the lonely roadrunner
looses himself as he runs
up and down
the oak covered hills,
it is love at its best.

This morning
when the soft breathes
you took woke me
and my chin rested upon
your shoulder,
something happened.
As the kisses fell
and your eyes continued to sleep;
I realized that this
is where I belong.
Drifting slowly  
into love with you.

He professed he was a professor
He knew all the flowers by name
The greater stitchwort from the lesser
Deadly nightshade and alpine fleabane

He said he would build her an Eden
The envy of all learned men
To find the plants they would be needing
They walked on field, hill and fen

He said it would be just like ground force
He told her to stay out of sight
He said it would cost her of course
He vanished into the night

If ever you meet with this fellow
And get filled with botanical cravings
It's for the police you should bellow
And hang on to your jewels and life savings

call to me like a bird
and drown my senses
in soft clinging caresses
and wordless communion

dance to me like a fire
in flickering delight
consuming and illuminating
with tongues of flame

run to me in a river
crave emotions to the sea
in waves breaking over me
torrential and irresistible

bathe me like the moonlight
in shimmering strands
unravel my darkness
and banish my shade

embrace me like the smoke
that drapes its narcotic cloak
on my fragmented fantasies
and dreams them real

blanket me like the snow
that numbs my pain
and blesses my wounds
with its soothing glow

devour me like the end of the world
and grant me living oblivion
eternal and divine
in your celestial anodyne

Instant gratification.  Instant disappointment.  Dreams of yesterday and a blind tomorrow. Talk of closing doors and opened windows does not quell fear.  The unknown is too familiar.  Teetering on the precipice of what was and what will be.  The path is unlit.  In darkness all is equal.  There is no direction.  There is no certainty but that any motion will let gravity take hold.  Falling, falling, falling.  Blindfolded by emotion, a lightless tunnel.  Hoping only to land on the side facing forward.  

Thrown into change
Dragged into tomorrow
Clawing the past

Status quo has been erased.  Eradicated by others.  There is no escaping pain, there is no eluding fear.  Time stood still for ages and the clock has begun to tick in time with the very heartbeat of life.  There is more, more to be desired, more that is deserved, more life to live, more joy to find.  How bad is the hunger?  How strong the need? Driven by hope or fear, or both but driven.  Driven to a new sense of self.  A renewed confidence found only through the art of release.

**Tides will ebb and flow
Sun rises in the morning
Change is imminent

A regal woman brushes her daughter’s hair –
waves of golden grain –
a child with eyes bright
like the sea.
A good child, ever so obedient,
she heeds her mother’s words,
though wishes for emancipation.

Womanhood come soon enough,
and the daughter breaks away
(lips pale pink).
With room to breathe
she grows, becoming brighter
and stronger with each triumph.

Swift as an eagle,
the young woman takes the world
by storm.

Others watch with
envious eyes,
smirking when
she becomes conflicted
and starts to
disfigure herself.
To their amazement,
she rises once again
(lips ruby red this time).

As years pass,
her wisdom grows,
and she becomes a woman.
Though rebellion and revolution
shall never be left behind,
peace comes twice over, for
a steep price
(now a dark, solemn crimson).

Determined to never fade
nor pass the torch,
she clings to youth and
obsess over beauty.
Now false and hollow,
she dabbles in the blood
spilt by martyrs and saints,
willing to paint herself red.