Is there a basic joy
in experiencing
every experience
which I experience?
Is there joy in sights:
colour, shape, size, patterns?
Is there joy in sounds:
loud, soft, tone, pitch?
Is there joy in touch:
hard, soft, rough, smooth?
Is there joy in smell and taste:
salty, sweet, pungent, tangy?

Touch -
The most significant insignificance.
Sight -
The slightest intention.
Hearing -
The loudest silence.
Taste -
The most complicated intricacy.
Smell -
The love of the non-discriminatory.
You -
The "when all else fails".

it's easier to forget
being poor than being rich.

loved poor children think they are rich,
or can remember, being so,
feeling so,

even now, past fifty, giving sponge baths
in assisted living for rich
abandoned grandmas.

For a very long time,
I wondered what was my mistake?
Why me?
What did I do to deserve it?
Did I attract you?
because I never meant to.

But now I realise,
It didn't matter
who I was,
where I was,
what I wore.

Because the person to blame
wasn't me, but you all along.

I’ve always been one to enjoy the burn
But this
This is a new level
Of salt in the wound

You are cold to the touch
Leaving blisters
Where you grab my wrist
And pin me down

The longer you stay
The longer I scream
Until the pain is numb
And I do not feel enough
To need you to leave

You burn me anyway

I love the silence with you.
When our minds don’t think
And our hands start to
Gracefully and slowly
Gravitate towards each other
Only to stop an inch apart,
Craving touch
Too much
To shy away.
Then our hands meet
And the slight touch
Sends a shock through my bones.
And just when i thought that was as far
As our courage could take us,
You hold my hand in yours and
I feel my soul drown in euphoria
And I would rather find myself breathless
Again and again
Than to ever let go.