an accidental intimacy is committed
between the right-now me
and the me-a-few-minutes-ago
as i slip onto my body,
(made cold by the air of the room,)
the warmest shirt i have ever felt,
soft and hot with the heat of
my own body
that i had already forgotten.

two me's converge, here.
i wrap my arms around myself.

i forgive my old self for all he has done to me
yesterday
because look what he would do for me
today,
he would keep himself warm
so that one day he would be cold
so that one day i could pick this hot shirt up
and wear it.

we waltz, we dance,
until the heat calms under the fan,
and then we are just one man
and i catch myself missing him.

Intimacy is not physicality.
Intimacy takes heartfuls of risky honesty.
Its essence is vulnerability -
an ability to offer the key to deep dignity
and entrust it by degree or in its entirety.

And listen carefully:
It's not limited to matrimony.
It's a delicacy available to anybody
and without it friendship is hollow
and fully half empty.

Falling sound asleep
Your fingers tickle me
I look at you with glassy eyes
You look at me with fire

Soft murmurs carry me
Up into the clouds
And so myself starts to wonder—
Could this really be love?

You touched my soul
The intimate of all intimates
And burned away all the sorrow
As well as the pain and misery.
All emotions that ate away my delight of life
Were replaced with the foundation of you
It was like seeing in colour for the first time
And feeling the wind run its fingers through my whole body
It invaded my whole self
As you enlightened all that I was.

in his limbs i find penance

when he pins me down
                                                     its my mothers hands around my throat
begging
                 for sounds i won’t make
                                                                 praying
                                                                ­                     to be allowed silence  
when we join i know
                                         i hate him  
after we part
                                                              i hate myself

                            solace in the steamed bathroom mirror
                                    hiding the sin from the sinner  
the
        salt
                   of
                          his
                                   pleasure
the
        salt
                   of
                          my
                                   pain
                                                                      washed off together as though
equal

                                                        but

her limbs are absolution  
                                                    ­                                 seek and ye shall find
i am forgiven between her thighs
                                                                               on earth as it is in heaven
the prayer on my tongue meets god
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                                her gasp Amen

I like the kind of intimacy we share


so gentle

in no rush

taking our time to be

intoxicating

it's sweet & playful


I don't know what plans God has for me but I am glad that I experienced such a feeling

One more swipe.
One more swipe across one more greasy face.
My finger slips, skips down the page.
My finger pauses at your gaze.
The taste of your smile as it wonders through
my maze.

having your lover
trace your earloves with their
fingernib is as intimate as
reading.