Your face is full as the moon
unerring the tides of rapacious hunger
A single grain in the roiling sea I want to sink beneath your upending beauty
On a cursive line I will beg for your love as a pauper
joined by the felictious letters that have taken haven in your grasp
you’re the triumphant breeze that catches the archway
the gentle curves of your body flaring to be undressed by the weathered sun
I miss the passing salt mired in your skin

To walk the cobblestoned streets is to be without your grace
and to breathe the color of air that kisses your sadness
is a fated rose meant to be held.
I like you to be still, as the night that brings the solitude of katydids
a rasping song as to not forget the calm of your voice that was.
Let me be within your steps so we can never part
in shadowing the course that brings you closer to the softened murmur of my lips.

Is your grief as sullen to be pitched into the dark where mourners lay their thoughts
the warmth of a cup of black coffee drawn from a heedful call that stands to reason with your voice
and the day turns away in a callous hunger desiring to be measured in spiteful calories
your lipstick has stained your teeth in vainglory
will you run from the hunt or has the open switchblade knife followed your wrist to the faintest lines
has his forceful blows moved you to tears and he knows how not to love you in centimeters
in the rose gold of your naked body I have surfaced
to find the rounded edges that make you complete

Loneliness is
the salve of an eager knife diving into your flesh
A repentant parishioner lost in the rose windows of a solemn cathedral
And here I stand in your sacred light
It’s the dance of ice needles sculpting a barren landscape
The wildness of a red fox captured in a leg lock trap
Twisting, turning against the cold steel jaws
Gnawing at its broken limb to be free
A howl of pain the wind lashing in its cruelty

The earthen gray
the ash of your mouth
that has made the soil fertile
a garden grows of wanton desire
I will walk between the edge of your lips
taking a step for every man who has passed not in sight
of the burning in the quietest corners where I love you
And I will return my hands with pride to till the fields
that has coloured your hair
that has softened your face
and I will turn my hands
to kiss you when the spring comes with her angry storms
and I will pocket the stone that holds you to me
heavy to my heart

Did you catch the ethereal light of a passing torch
like the repetitive whistling of a Northern Cardinal cupped in your hands
red in its infumation drawn away from the heat of a woodland fall
Let’s run away from Leeds as far as the sun casts your shadow
everyone’s thoughts are passing over our heads
have you found your voice in the hallway choir?

Crush the broken glass in your hand
fractures masticate through sinew and seams of tissue
nerves struggle to bear witness to your purloined tenderness
your jagged flesh an open wound brilliant in its escape from meaningful virtue
an inviolate rose nodding in the wind
would you bleed just to feel a little bit loved?
under the surface of your silver skin can I be important enough
to sit beside you along the wild rivers free of solitude

To take flight in the dark where your fleeting thoughts are abducent
like the nictating membrane of an eye have you swept away the duress of your heart
the cool air of the night guiding your paired wings
as you climb on unsung notes
will you find me in the moon and the stars
your drawn breath anticipating the springs frost

Where the river flows to fitful estuaries
The morningtide never comes in your absence.
Have your dreams grown as smooth as the cordgrass visible from the empty shoreline.
The water columns irreplaceable as your soul carved away by frigid glaciers
banding the silt and clay as turquoise as the day you stood still.

Where you walk below the wrack line
the bereft sand has sunken underneath the weight of your impression.  
Tossed violently ashore the rough waves have brought me to you.
will you hold me completely dear?
I’ve been waiting for your warm hands in the dark amidst the raging storms.

Governed by nature time portends a chance to love you.  
Amongst the brown pine needles of towering sequoia trees I have gone unnoticed
may you hold onto me as the years come to pass.
In hope may your footsteps be as quiet so our heartbeats will not pass a second further than mine.
If the world is not enough where will I be without your breath to guide me.

Fair angel thyne blessed wings
tis heaven has spoken your name
I have humbly touched your face in repentance
do not speak of tomorrow where young fledglings take flight to clouded forests
turquoise gorgets basking in the opulence of Espeletias
do not speak of Fraser Magnolias and their scarlet cones
inveigling stalwart lovers in ephemeral courtship
do not take the summer abloom in your light.

Cedar tree branches windbreak the fierce squall.
Her shoulders shakes hoarfrost in inviolate delight.
The porous trilling of Pacific Wren notes tumble.
I miss the warmth of her laughter filling my soul
following the sound of meltwater gurgling over stones in a brook running through open fields.

Between cots fishermen cast snap nets drawn by the early morning tide.
Wooden cable needles knit and purl merino wool in a honeycomb stitch.
My breath warm and soft against your skin unafraid of the bitter winds.
Waves lap at the precipitous cliffs of Moher
overlooking the rocky coast
I’m wrapped up in you.

She straightens her untamed hair with a carved ivory comb.
Fine teeth pluck through strands
a harps voice singing an arpeggio.
Wild horses run free grazing on shrubs and forbs in the distant plains.
In libation I pour my love
if only to fall softly on your shoulders.

Thunder peals as we take shelter from the storm
in a flooded dugout muddy footprints wash away imparting memories
settling the quiet space between.
A hollowed trunk our hands carve pointed sterns giving shape
navigating our hearts through shallow puddles.
Her enraptured laughter funneling the late summers rain.

I have stood tall along the muddy banks.
Leaves fall into the river as in our nature to love and part in constant sorrow.
A Lapsang souchong tea steeped in boiling water her lips are a smoking pine fire.
Suspended in tension her empyreumatic kiss lingers.

In the foyer whitened ceramic bells shatter scattering rice and flour.
A wintrous storm the cold dry air obscuring his vision.
Afraid exposed to the high winds and drifting snow.
He lifts her veil seeking comfort
the sheltering warmth of her devoted face
a sunset reflecting off the snow capped mountains.

Hidden in the coarse grass of the savannah I hunger for your flesh.
The burnt ground is bare as your feet from agropastoral fires
I have perambulated the woodlands and grasslands in carnal desire.
Grimacing the smell of musk and petrichor is pungent.
Into the night I want to be by your side.
Silent amidst the busy thrum of the bush.
Lost in the drought I am famished of your love.

Seasons unchanged she never ages a day.
Her youthful face follows the morning sun as it moves across the sky.
Past the oceans the westerly winds sweep through her hair.
In deciduous fashion she undresses as villous silk petals fall at her feet.
Ripened her lily-white skin tastes as subtly sweet as vanilla.

Cold water cascades over the hidden valley of her *******.
The sun sets on her glowing body like a burning flame.
The mysteries of a forest unfolding at every curve of her figure.
In a deep descent I crash at her feet
breathing her in.

I have wandered off the looping trails.
Beneath the canopy I am starved of your love.
I miss the warmth of your kisses upon my glowing skin.
I thirst for your love as it trickles from the darkest recesses of your heart
flowing until it drops off the edge of a weir.
I want to inhabit your unexplored body emboldening myself to traverse
the greatest parts of yourself that you fear.
I would climb the highest trees to see the sun set in your eyes.
As you pull me deeper into you
I am anything but a civilized man.

I have touched an angels unfettered wings.
No face by divination is as heavenly as hers.
Her body is a sacred temple my hands cusped  
I drink in her beauty.
Of mud and clay my love burns like a metal lamp filled with camphor oil.
She is my center.

I want to be the rain that kisses your delicate skin when your caught in a passing summers storm.
The taste on your sweet lips as you look towards the sky in jubilant bliss.
Your clothes taut as I draw you near.
The soft patter on your window pane as you gently fall asleep beside me.

She stands flushed
her cheeks as rouge as the cliffs of Aquinnah.
Along the coast whales bellow in discordant harmony.
She is my secret cove a stillness to weather the vulnerabilities I’m afraid to course.

Through treacherous currents and coral reefs
no sunken Manila galleon holds a treasure far more precious than thee.
Fair maiden
thyn beauty has spoken to me.

On the veranda she calls my name
as sweet as a songbird.
My heart takes flight to grasslands
as hot as a summers night in Barcelona.
The sounds of heavy traffic and city streets drowns in the revelry of her love.

May your loving hands caress my weathered face.
Through heavy rains or wintry storms.
I stand firmly rooted in search of your enduring beauty.

I love you to depths unknown
where your fears have recessed.
When you close your eyes I want to set sail to the furthest corners of your soul.
With your breath setting us downwind.
As gentle as the nights sky
waves crash at your feet.

My love in the harshest winters I have felt a longing ache.
For years yonder
a kindling lest forgotten.
A romance begot by your absence.
The tenderness of your warm touch drifts.

Where flowers have bloomed she walks
through gardens in quiet repose.
The scent of morning dew follows her in amorevolous wonder.
I yearn for her kiss with every breath
she exhales.

Darling do not stray for the night
I am but lost in your beauty
dressed in moonlight
may our lips never part.

I wandered through the places we have come to know all these years but yet everything seems vaguely unfamiliar.
Her general fears have subsided but her kiss still feels superfluous like this moment has far exceeded both of our expectations.
And her eyes remind me of the empty highway at four am in the morning when I'm driving alone lost in my thoughts with no destination in mind.
The needle barely pushing above the designated red line but metaphorically speaking this is our relationship.
Maybe there needs to be a cliched 'Hollywood ending' but who's the intended audience?
Us or them?

Your self being moves me to a standpoint that you will never know.
When I stop to think about you it feels as if everything is new.
I want to map out every single inch of your body with my hands
to feel, to want, to know your every waking breath.
The sense of comfort you bring me God willing leaves me to wonder.
You are my saving grace.
I love you.
I want you to be my wife.
Marry me for all it's worth
for I see the world in your eyes.

This perfect morning I was in love with her dissidence but from afar.
This perfect evening she said goodbye.
And I slowly wonder how everything can be just this.
Honest.
Through the telephone I heard her say 'let me sleep..let me see tomorrow through your eyes.'
And I slowly wonder how everything can be just that.
Perfect.

Of the sweetest notion I was once a mere boy

swayed by her gilded tresses.

endued with hope.

smitten.

with her magnanimous nature.

As a story yet untold

she was the eponymous visage of my sudden romance.

A nondescript dialogue written from conversant means.

It is not fear nor contempt of reason that has driven us apart my love

for I am alone but of unwitting circumstances.

She has such a pretty mouth for such a bitter girl.

She doesn't need any makeup or anything of that sort.

I love her too much to say so however for fear of objectification.

But it's not a question of 'if' or 'why' because the possibilities could be endless.

With a kiss so ****** those abstained words fumble out of her mouth 'as if' there needed to be a reason behind this at all.

I wrote endlessly but in place of these adverbs and subjective pronouns I leave an empty line for you to

place that significance that I can't hold onto.

I wrote this song for you to hear but the chorus never repeats.

I wrote this post for you to see that my words askew your self perceptions.

I wrote a poem for you that had no title, no rhyme, no meter, but in place I leave behind everything that you were to me.

I have braved

the tempestuous sea

in fortuitous grandeur

of her beauty.

I have wistfully traversed

the arid desert

in libidinous yearning

of her kiss.

I'm the seedless pumpkin you left out on the front porch in the cold morning sun to rot simply because you had completely forgotten about me at the end of October.

All I want is for you to love me as a child only knows how to.

All I want is for you to carve me inside and out.

To make me feel at the least bit beautiful for just this instant so I won't be entirely misplaced in your affection.

All I want is for to hold me in your tired arms when reasoning gives way to those interminable doubts.

If only I had just that one particular chance of a lifetime I'd carve your pretty eyes out to make them hollow just like mine.

Her frame accentuates a state of grace without the idiosyncrasy of a modern day woman.

The curve of her hips reminds me of lazy summer days

spent watching the tides rolling in off Narragansett Bay.

She's beautiful in every essence of the word.

Her lips parted as a plume of smoke billowed forth.

I watched her with a schoolboy's curiosity quietly intent on her next decisive action.

The embroidered waves of her sweater swelled forth and brought out the voluptuousness of her round figure.

As the cigarette dangled from her slim yet virginal fingers

she closed her eyes.

On her finger sits a diamond ring

of lust and shine

a golden wrought band as permeable

as of no willing name shall pass these lips

that officiously beautiful as yours

from whence I truly adore

Dress to fit her abated breath is a veiled clout

a heavy fist beating the voluted walls to my heart

the opines of a million marching men could never dissuade

that inherent truth.