her fingers crawled
around my mouth
like a spider

My body is a rugged mountain pass
whose dangerous peaks and valleys
call out to the hubris of would be adventurers
with its hungry siren song.

Lovers have come the world over
with their maps, pickaxes, fire starters and rope.
Some brought tents intending to go the distance;
several with flags to stake their claim at the summit;
a few with pocket knives for carving their names.
All leaving trash on the trails as they went.

“Did I make you ***?”
they would ask believing in their foolish arrogance
that their movement and noise were really capable
of causing my avalanche.
Covered in the sweat of my labors in Sherpa-ing them to the peak
I whisper “Yes.”
Understanding in those moments that some things cannot be taught.

Only one ever came truly naked -without intention or ego.
The many times he found himself cresting my summit
it never occurred to him to pierce me with his pride
but instead he kissed the earth beneath him in gratitude.
He always moved through me as if he had gone this way his whole life
and yet still could get lost on the trails of a single limb.

He made himself an eager student of my skin
and produced waterfalls where before there had been none.
Singing songs into me as he studied my topography with adept fingers.
The echoes of which ring through me even now.
Never was he concerned with the ridges
for he being too preoccupied with the beauty of my slopes
thought of them only as trail markers.

The songbirds in the trees of me call always for him.
The animals of my wilds stay hungry as never before.
A small fire burns constantly for his return.

Unclothed.

She is soil,
earth and pure.
I run her through my hands
and she falls
through my fingers.

Rip me apart
and cart me off
to somewhere unknown

Cut through the top
plunge fingers deep
disgusting, wet, and slick

Rip out the innards
make hollow
for your own pleasure

Unmoving
it sits and waits
for the rest to come

The carving
the face always
comes out ugly

At last
light the fire
and watch it glow

In the bright flames
of a dark night
they'll be left there

Until they're rotting
scrape up the remains
and dump the body

Each time I shave my face,
I scrutinize with my eyes,
To look for my mistakes,
But my eyes, they fraternize,
With the enemy on my chin,
And so, too late,
When on a date,
I feel them with my fingers

red roses
and tulips
petals
in your hair
lips
on mine
a day
like this
something
in the air
fingers
on my waist
sweet
cherry taste
this love
of mine
bound
by crimson twine
blood drips
from tiny ******
sharp thorns
with ruby tips

Grease
Wagon
Paper cups,
Hot chips and sauce;
Sticky fingers dip in for just one more...