little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

"So what happens after this?"
He asked the most profound question
to the most decisive girl
living in this world, in his world.

"I don't know.. What do you think?"
And she gave him the most accurate answer
she could ever think of -- a question.

"Neither do I."
And he answered her satisfyingly enough.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

A hopeful romantic whistles
His two note call
Outside my window,
Down toward the open pond
Flaunting winter-killed carp.

A raucous crow caws
Derision in black and naked trees
Though in the stillness
And the damp of spring,
His mindless clamor
Doesn't mean a thing.

The chickadee knows only life,
Anticipates the nest to come,
Sings a two-toned song
And beckons to his mate,
For which, libidinous, he
The air with amor fills.

I came to you
or did you come to me?
Memory may not be a strong suit
but foresight
and hindsight
and ability to see it all
is the most piercing of gazes.

It matters not if I am near or far,
you can pick me out like a white pebble
in a sea of black
like a shooting star.
Yet you refuse to see me.
Reasons do not matter,
nothing matters.
No, it all matters,
                                but...

But
that is to say she had to be beautiful,
she had to be full
of what I might have wanted...
or did I want it.
What did I want?
                                what do i have...

My body sounds like an ocean
Like waves kissing the shore
The way my flesh stretches round my bones
In an embrace that whispers “till death”
Like a lover who chooses herself
I have picked you over and over
And like the shoreline
I
Will
Never
Stop
Chasing
You

Amongst the sapphire roses
The stems dance along the dust
That spreads on winds of you

Morning came like the past
Beating down a mountain valley
Conjuring up a lovers rally
Could we dally upon subtle dreams?
A kiss planted inside the skin
No makeup could change its view
A façade I bid adue

A world where you are you

And I
Loving the plum blossoms
That formed upon your skin
Nature causing beauty to be natural
Not transformed into potions
Built by peoples emotions
For we learned to love the river
A purest source of freedom
That drifts along your rivers roots
That I bloomed to love

You became nature
And I learned how to photograph with my eyes

cross-over
behind the back
simple wrist flip
34 footer drops
and I sit in awe --
having witnessed
Showtime
Magic, Kareem, Worthy
Vs.
The Parquet floor
and Larry Bird….,
the bad boys,
and the Jordan era
(both incarnations),
big Timmy in San Antonio,
and Hakeem in Houston,
Shaq and Kobe,
Kobe and Gasol,
the reign of a new king
shinning like the sun in Miami...
they all sit back
like me
mouth open
feeling a state of awe
muthafukkin Stephe Curry
……hope homeboy stays healthy,
I like bearing witness to NBA godliness –