Which other side would you reflect
If you turn?
What kind of change could you affect
If you turn?
Something new to learn?
Turn.
The world’s your concern?
Turn.

What would be your new direction
If you turn?
You would overcome rejection
If you turn.
That to which you yearn?
Turn.
Live the life you earn.  
Turn.

How many parts? Transient…
Tearing apart? Permanent…

An angry one. Powerless…
It’s never done. Sorrowless…

The battle rages. Survival…
Till one prevails. Revival…

Is there a third? Unaware…
Has it been heard? Everywhere…

Forces at play. Unresolved…
Hear what they say. Unabsolved…

Fight for your soul. Unlivable…
Your self-control. Forgivable.

Your kisses are like colors to the blind,
Your touch like an aria for the mute,
As elusive as passion to the mind,
As beyond the grasp as an absolute.

Your kisses like a full moon in the day,
Your touch is like a rainbow’s harmony,
Like language that the angels use to pray,
Or the dreams that wide open eyes can see.

Your kisses are like clouds held in a palm,
Your touch like a silent cacophony,
Embracing the ferociousness of calm,
Embracing the constraints of being free.

Your perfect kisses defy description.
Your touch is a sublime contradiction.

I’ve traveled the world
Lying here in bed,
Had places unfurled
All around my head.

I’ve ridden on dreams
To fantastic sites,
And followed the themes
Of songs sung at night.

Drifting to places
That don’t exist,
While here in spaces
That real life missed.

In sleep I don’t stir
And go everywhere,
‘Cause awake I’m sure,
I’m going nowhere.

Carelessly crossing this chasm
For finding fallacy in fear,
Enter with enthusiasm,
Through thoughts that are thanklessly there.

Bringing bravery to the bridge,
Tripping over trepidation,
Pacing o’er pious pilgrimage,
Away from alienation.

Approach with awed anticipation,
The bridge beyond being banal,
To the valued validation,
Across achieving all your all.

Taking up this terrible truth,
Understanding what is under,
Spanning the other side will soothe
Being burdened by your blunder.

Between the sheets, in perfect peace,
The back and forth is synchronous.
The movements slow but never cease,
Then rise with violence amorous.

Between the sheets, yet closer still,
The lust for love becomes sublime,
One slides in to the other’s fill
The coming moments beyond time.

Between the sheets, the eyes roll back,
The light caress has now dug in,
Moans interrupted by a smack
Of rhythmic impact skin in skin.

Between the sheets, in unison,
The lovers’ gush of spirit meets,
Their finished glow beams like the sun.
They lie alone—where are the sheets?

This spoken language,
Spoken by my heart,
In garbled anguish,
Can’t be deciphered
By a mind that learned
To speak happiness.

My heart is vanquished,
Crying to come home,
In foreign language,
Can’t be understood
By a mind that learned
To listen for joy.

This is when your body learns loneliness,
When your thoughts don’t comprehend what you feel.