I stare steadily
with great interest and
the unrivaled concentration
usually reserved for tasks
such as bravely attempting the
(ever-humbling)
Sunday crossword,
clinging to the fragments
of the dream
desperately trying to escape
with each new moment
you are awake,
and other endeavors that hint at grave importance.

The solutions to my life's predicaments
haven't yet turned up,
but, just in case I could find them here,
I will continue to refill and
search to bottom of this coffee cup.

Even your abrupt gesticulations
the sudden motions that should destroy serenity
enforce the curvature of your fingers
the delicacy of great strength contained;
Not even Adam, in reaching for his creator, can compare

i. smoky fingers curl around the heart-beat
   pulse-beat song-beat and wrench out the
   bricks one at a time
   the rasp of flesh latching on cement, the
   grating grinding of stones lunging out, and
   the scream as they fall in the dark rabid
   waters
   the building erodes in the fog
   the building erodes in the storm
   the building erodes like everything erodes
        and my heart erodes with it and in it
        and among it

ii. he has never known fear and that is why
    he climbs up scales up cringes up the
    never ending walls
    that is why he clings to the bricks as they
    are torn out and that is why he hopes that
    he too will fall and
    that is why he wants to erode because
    erosion is the melting, the harsh corrosive
    acid leaching away, erosion is the secret
    to a long
        and beautiful
        and happy
        and irony-drenched life

iii. gray mud spatters - no, it swallows - no
    it consumes like a monster, a monster
    with tendril claws and poisonous fangs,
    and it eats you with a flick of its jaw - no,
    it erodes
    gray mud erodes in the twin way of the
    world, gray mud is the thing that erodes
    you and your love and your lover and it's
    the thing that is eroded until one day it's
    gone
    and nothing
    will ever
         erode again

iv. he is covered in gray mud, and i am covered
     in gray mud, and my skin is rebelling against
     the cold slick slimy tingling creature that *****
     the bruises away, but he welcomes it
     he always welcomes everything more than i do
     and maybe that's the reason
          maybe that's the hidden reason
          why the world is eroding

I am a man of science and
A man of faith,
But look me in the eye and
Tell me, do you think your word
Is as good as that of God?

And even His have been manipulated
So much that I cannot be too sure
What is fact and
What is fiction

It was not necessary to study
the language
of a strange country;
anyway, it would be of no help.
It was not necessary to know
where Italy or England
is located;
travel was obviously
out of question.
It was not necessary to live
among the wild beasts
of Noah's ark,
which had just devoured
the last dove of peace,
along with Noah
and his virtuous family.
It was not necessary to strive
for some holy land
awash in milk and honey,
according to rumor.

Where does love go when it is lost
Is there a black hole filled with it, 
Or a rehab for love used up?
Perhaps somewhere love takes refuge from the storm
Of relationships gone wrong
Does it really ever disappear;
Or just dissipate?

I'm really not at work right now.

I'm really not.

instead as my body feigns the motion of purposeful key strokes
and as my mouth forms the shape of requisite responses to work place witticisms,
I'm really in bed with you
feeling the curve of your body fit against mine,
watching your chest rise and fall slowly in that moment right before you awake.

I love to look at you in the soft glow of the shuttered window
peacefully slumbering in my arms
as I brush my lips across your cheek
feeling thrills steal over the length of my body
when a sleepy smile turns up the corners of your mouth
as I kiss you awake.

all at once my
hands are gliding over your smooth skin,
lightly tracing the softest parts of you,
memorizing the feel of your body beneath my fingertips.
even as you drowse,
your hips rock gently against mine
echoing in steady rhythm
my own need to hold you closer and closer still.

The sea is the only creation
that can feel

(s)ympathy,
(e)mpathy, and
(a)pathy

all at once.

A beautiful contradiction.