There is something incredibly peaceful
About watching someone do something their addicted to
Watching how a shaky hand injects a needle ever so calmly
How beautiful she looks taking that first drag on a much needed cigarette
The relief you see in his eyes when he swallows that bottle
The idea of skinny as her finger is down her throat
You can't help but want to feel what they feel
The release
The complete and utter dismissal of all worries
And just for a moment
Life isn't as hard as it seems to be

His hands were wrapped around my waist last night
Not yours
His lips were against my lips last night
Not yours
Our bodies were pressed together in that bed
Not yours
He was breathing into my hair last night
Not yours
He whispered sweet nothings in my ears last night
Not yours
He carried me and ran his fingers up and down my spine last night
Not yours
But he's calling you to tell you he loves you this morning
And I have to realize,
He's not mine

As I reflect on slow dainty sips,
The light from the window
Disclosing your tea-wetted lips,
I remember thinking that your profile
Was sweeter than soft caressing rain
On the strangely distant windowpane
And that your features betrayed
The subtle art of nature's paint palette
As surely as she had conceived
The embrace of a summer's eve.

The rhythm of droplets lost in time
Whose steady drip, drip singing
Formed a calming refrain
Played host to
The afternoon canvas of exuberance
Which now bleeds its
Pastel colors to oblivion
On the pages of my mind.

You had a compelling innocence then
Which could not conceive of boundaries
While your twinkling eyes
Recalled in me the
Urgent spice-aroma of
A hot midday field of wildflowers
Full of defiant life and
Nearly exploding from the neck and temples.

In the half-light of the study
I marveled at the hue of your
Cinnamon-cream skin
In its summer blush;
The delicate symmetry of your lips
The easy confidence of your laughter
Your casual, almost unkempt hair--
Inviting a touch or a caress--
Which conjured within me
An urgent near-irrepressible expectation
Of the scent and feel of your embrace.

You were made for love
The kind of love
Which fills each moment,
Each glance, each act,
With the awareness,
The intensity, and
The passion of a lifetime.
Your eyes opened to
Well-guarded secret possibilities
I had not dared to entertain before.

And as I became overwhelmed
by your beauty
and the sweetness of your voice
my eyes returned to
the flower in my hand
its color and scent
enchanting reminders of
you
the only missing puzzle piece
which can complete
the longing in my heart.

J. Sandy

I cut the middle fingernail of the middle
finger
right hand
real short
and I began rubbing along her ****
as she sat upright in bed
spreading lotion over her arms
face
and *******
after bathing.
then she lit a cigarette:
"don't let this put you off,"
an smoked and continued to rub
the lotion on.
I continued to rub the ****.
"You want an apple?" I asked.
"sure, she said, "you got one?"
but I got to her-
she began to twist
then she rolled on her side,
she was getting wet and open
like a flower in the rain.
then she rolled on her stomach
and her most beautiful ***
looked up at me
and I reached under and got the
**** again.
she reached around and got my
****, she rolled and twisted,
I mounted
my face falling into the mass
of red hair that overflowed
from her head
and my flattened **** entered
into the miracle.
later we joked about the lotion
and the cigarette and the apple.
then I went out and got some chicken
and shrimp and french fries and buns
and mashed potatoes and gravy and
cole slaw,and we ate.she told me
how good she felt and I told her
how good I felt and we
ate the chicken and the shrimp and the
french fries and the buns and the
mashed potatoes and the gravy and
the cole slaw too.

Does it ever occur to you
That your face appears in
My thoughts and dreams
And everything in between?

Or should I assume
That like my silly humor,
You just think of me like a joke
And nothing more?

Do you believe in us,
Or is the thought so absurd
That it would only pop up
In your head as sarcastic nonsense?

Could it really be only me
That feels these feelings,
Or are you hiding them
Like an elementary school boy does?

Am I only wasting my time
Wistfully dreaming about you-
Or are you
Secretly dreaming of me too?