***.
i wish we could have made that word into friction,
and droplets of ocean streaming off our bodies.

i've always thought that maybe something could grow
like a plant
between us,
plant its roots through our faces.
i always imagined that one harsh summer, sweaty
blanket night, after open mic,
we'd run the streets barefoot,
and you'd sing tom waits in your
rusty voice, like a garden pail
left out for a couple springs.

and you'd take me somewhere frightening and strange,
where i've never been, even though
my feet roam this tiny town even when my eyes are
sleeping.
then i'd tell you
that
heaven is a foreign concept to me,
and you'd whisper
that there is nothing realer than this earth,
and you would say it with passion, with a bite and a kick in it,
like good hot sauce;
your lips moving harsh and fast against
my stretched neck,
its skin begging for the weight of your kisses.

and then we'd recite poetry with our bodies
under a summer moon,
like an empty plate,
with august skin peeling off our bones,
leaving us raw and intertwined,
a knot of ferocious dreams, and thin
crunchy book pages.

words whispered loudly into the sweet
sweat of the dark,
your hands playing me like a violin
my body singing with your touch.

four cigarettes after;
two for our mouths,
and the others for our hungry hearts.

Would you
Allow me
To sip
From your succulent lips
As night
Seductively slides
Against a crimson stained sky?

Would you
Allow me
To trace
The contours of your aching body
As moonlight
Tempting highlights
Your passion filled form?

Would you
Allow me
To teasingly
******
You
Until...
We're both exhausted?

© 2013-2014 Peach

Even as I close the door
I'm stripping off my clothes
discarding all the fetters
from my head down to my toes.

Throwing off the shackles
of decency prescribed
'cos writing when I'm naked
leaves me no place to hide.

Relieved of every stitch am I
free in heart and mind
all except my spectacles
without them I am blind.

The mirror smirks above me
reflecting all I am
just a little human
born of woman, taught of man.

Cheerful, unencumbered
by the threads of etiquette
a more effective custom
I have not found, as yet.

Though, sometimes in need of character
out come the hats and bows
bare as night beneath a tippet
inspiration flows.

Who cares for mere habiliments
throw your trappings to the floor!
But, oh, where is my dressing gown?
Someone's at the door!

Do It

Do it in the street, do it in the house,
do it with a rat, do it with a mouse.
Do it with some cats, do it with some dogs,
do it with one of those newly infected hogs.
Do it in the morning, do it in the night,
do it is best after a big huge fight.
Do it on the couch, do it on the bed,
do it is gross, when someone is dead.
Do it with a girl, do it with a man,
do it always, whenever you can.
Do it when it's red, do it when it flows,
do it cause that's just the way it goes.
Do it with a horse, do it with a cow,
do it even if you don't know how.
Do it with a sheep, do it with a goat,
do it on the deck of your favorite boat.
Do it from the front, do it from the back,
do it with an old smelly yak.
Do it on the toilet, do it on the sink,
do it cause the inside is always pink.
Do it on the floor, do it on the table,
do it when you're ready, willing and able.
Do it after dinner, do it after lunch,
do it with an apple pie during brunch.
Do it when you're mean, do it when you're kind,
do it with any hole that you can find.
Do it cause it's easy, do it cause it's fun,
do it cause men love to shoot their gun.
Do it when you cough, do it when you're sick,
do it no matter, the size of the ****.
Do it when you're *****, do it when you're not,
do it by yourself and hope you don't get caught.

Babe you are worse than late night ****
Sinful like fried chocolate cake
Ironic like chicken and waffles with a diet coke
Or using lard based dressing on a salad

You bad
Like menudo without lime
Like hot cheetos to my kidneys

My desire for you is like:
That nostalgia you feel like a lump in your chest
The first time you smoked ****
The first time you came
The first time you fell in love

I’m sad cuz you ain’t here
And glad you’re far away.

I want to ask if you know how wet our noise is
because my tongue
against your
jaw, against your earlobe, has the same
melody as rain.

The air is never dry with us
water is our blood, we breathe lightning storms
into each other and call it a pulse (

where there is silence
where there is
no weather
there is no way for anything to grow as we do).

I think it speaks volumes that in my half-awake, half-asleep, drowsy state sometime before the sun came up, I instinctively yet firmly planted my lips on whatever part of you was closest to me. It was your shoulder blade, or maybe the back of your neck. I know I woke up and it was the first thing I thought of, and I gripped you close and kissed you hard. For me, it says a lot that you rolled over and held me back in response. We fell back asleep after that, your arm draped over my waist and your breath on my neck.

You could buy me flowers or take me on dates or tell me I'm beautiful and do all of those cliché yet considerate things. I won't think any less of them, and I promise I'll do the same for you. But you can't buy me an instinctual embrace. It was something I just did, and it was something you just did in response. I over analyze a lot, but it meant something for me.

It felt different than flowers and dates and hearing I'm beautiful. It felt safe, it felt like reciprocation. It felt like a simple embrace that simply meant I was in your arms, but I know it's a bit more than that. You may have simply rolled over and wrapped me up in your arms but it wasn't forced or planned or expected like dates and flowers may be. It was natural. Sometimes that's what feeling for someone is, going for it and hoping someone feels for you too. It's knowing that kissing someone is a shot in the dark and you may or may not get kissed back, but you go for it anyway. Sometimes, and hopefully, feeling for someone is natural and easy though telling them may not be.

So rolling over and kissing you was one thing. It was another that you responded. You don't know it, but a hand across my waist and your breath on my neck meant more than the other gestures because this one came to you as easily as blinking or breathing. It was simple like you and insightful like me. It meant that in your half-asleep, half-awake state there was enough instinct to hold me and the simple notion that you did so meant that we share some common ground, as uncommon as that may be; sometimes we wake up wanting to be close to each other, and that's enough for me.