there is something tragic about the young.
there is something haunting about the ***** of a young man’s browning neck.
his neck and those sweet earlobes and the tremor and clench of his thoughts provoking him
and tension bleeding quietly through the tissue and muscle and precious bone. there is something tragic about the young.
men, how they break out of one neediness and into another….

i had this lover who hated women
he hated women because his mother hated him.
when he told me this i decided i would forever keep my heart away from him,
he was dangerous
and full of fear
and full of this need to destroy.
he needed to ruin.

he needed to tear into something tender and pure and foolishly expectant
and pour all of his darkness into the frayed, howling gap.
suddenly he needed something in my slightness, my body whiteclad and open and unbroken ...
one spring cold with persistence
i forgot about that promise to myself
when for some reason i felt                                     so ugly

and then yes  he ripped,

ripped softly

into me.

I think
I may have fallen
for an everyman
the one who everyone
can't help but like
and my insecurities
make me ask
do I have a chance
of being the reason
he becomes
my onlyman

Fare thee well by islets of time,
Beauteous blooms of fragrance; of thyme.
Gliding symphonies beckons thine eye,
Gentle minds float toward sky high.

O cues sung by the siren, allure!
Once, fusion of reason borne pillar.
Twice ponder, may our paths entwine,
Thrice to act, unlike the tranquil Seine.

Like angelic enigmas par Euler,
Soar upon the painted auric frontier.
Air fresh: an ebullient morning dew,
Wisdom: moisture for the thirsty few.

By spring fountain, if thou art inclined,
Bright sparrow among the bovine herd.
Lo, argent quarry of dust- liquid guile,
Behold, product beyond thunder- gale.

Scents of lavender assail thy sleep,
Euphoric dreams, we welcome with glee!
Sleepy horizons, a glorious dawn,
Morning filled with a trillion suns.

Some time, some day: travel the stars,
Mortal shackles unchain my awful maw.
Pupil of Aristotle, Darwin, and Vinci,
There lies truth; a transient hierarchy...

I want the kind of ***
where I'm told exactly how much you want me
by the way your frame
fills in my every curve
and you touch so much of me
with your hands
and your starved eyes
I should be scared
but you'll call me beautiful
and I'll be your sweetheart
as your sweet heart beats
beats faster
and you fall into me

Only men remember the names of their cars,
the make and model and the year they got them.

They can recall the feeling on their thighs
from the cushioning of luxurious leather
as they slide in with a longing sigh.

There is no will power known to man
that can keep their fingers from caressing,
the steering wheel spinning in their fantasy drive.

Eyes scanning the dash to inspect the odometer
praising the low mileage of where she's been driven
fooling himself that he's the driver that counts.

If only they understood the true lust of leather
comes in the form of wedges or stilettos,
and not only noticed when they're kicked off.

Which, by the way, are Pradas,
sold by Neiman Marcus,
bought last month at Fifth and Grand.

your eyes
of orchids
maybe lotus...
they float



                      detached




stars perhaps.

                      a ship set sail
                                              longing...

y­ou
a pixie’s playground
or a forest,
a child’s castle
or a tree
              (it's all the same to you)



innocence
in essence;
inevitably transcends
to me

(unworthy)       I must decline,
                            my beauty;
                            so humble
                            remarkable

your eyes*
of lillies...



or lilacs
cannot describe
the          (elegance)
the          (delicacy)

the beauty
                   of your eyes.

it’s climbing a mountain in a blizzard unclothed,
with frostbitten fingers and toes and nose.
I've scaled this wall of ice for so long; the top of the summit always seems so close.
it’s my hypothermic body frozen two feet from your face,
and I still can’t reach you.