I view you move, a luxurious dance
on paper the pen, has merged with my hand
I see your vivid, yet blurred velocity
The desk where I sit, now creaky and cramped

I see your languid, nubile sensuality
My eyes two windows, of a lover’s glance
I see your delicate, curves of simplicity
Feet once mobile, now rooted they stand

I see you gathering, spring in your arms
My vision awash, thoughts colliding but soft
I see your effortless, beauty take flight
Now quieted mind,

What now should I long for,
In life?

Shall I dismiss the coming of winter,
An old man bent with burdensome thought?
Shall I forget the fall that found me doubting?
From autumn weans a cold December,
the meanest month of all.

The words
drop from the sky
are tangled in trees
fall to the ground
and die
So I
desperate to create
make the mistake
of bringing meaning
to their life.

Her hot blood whispers,
secrets in the spring,
whispers of her,
whisper to me.

Beneath a jealous moon,
Silky she lies,
within my dreams,
and while sleeping
the world snores softly
carried on whisper thin wings.

And out of the nebulous night,
whisper-like laughter emits,
I feel her smile,
I hear her wonder,
Her breathing, her whispers,
exciting my skin,
Always those whispers,
I listen in.…