Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?

For me the apocalypse is today,
as I lay in my pool of blood,
the world is ending,
I hear the sirens, a flashing ray,
I hear the paramedic say,
he won't live to see another day,
then I ask myself ,
why do I have to die this way,
making it my apocalypse,
my judgement day,
for as I die,
the world is ending
the world is dying with me,
everyday there is an apocalypse,
for everyone who dies,
and this one is mine.

Yesterday the world fell off my head and I caved under the weightlessness of my own body

With skin disrobed, I laid out the contents of my skeleton man, base to my eternity 

The two within were once one, now traveling separately down the same road coming undone, gradually

Both heaving and tired, a destination was finally reached - found, inhabited, exhausted - naturally

Consistency in tradeoffs paid in full, bought with soul's heavy gestures - they turned my water

into fog so beautifully

Eager morning light,
              nibbles her little by little;
*isn't it quite evident?
               she is  dainty and fresh!

I thought it is just between us, a man woman game**
which i would play with finesse, a play, life is any time.
and she has a yen to be on top, i am game,
what the ****, I thought let her have her time,

but every which time, it was a ***** game,
something of a wrestle with the demon that
comes to bask in your neighborhood park, without fail,
a **** and a game..ha ha, fun prime time!

we use our fire power to shoot at the demon
that never came, except in the dark pits of time.
my shrink was appalled, when i poured my heart out--
'dark birds with dark pits for eyes threaten me'
"Don't smoke grass any more, don't eat your words,
blast, blast, till you are a cannon without aim"
we still endure, the world will be fine, she gives that disarming smile-
i miss a heart beat, such misses accumulate,

i am sure the dark pit of the night would frighten again,
still everything will be fine, hopefully, meanwhile -
she bites me, she hits me, put her nails to good use,
gives love a go, with an acerbic accent,
such a kind only, she could grow, somehow.

In ******* frenzy  she claws my ****,
and make it look like a war zone, blood splatterd,
and the moment she exploded,  and the frenzy ebbed,
she becomes a lamb, sweet and understanding,
asking the wind and waters forgiving.

Under lovely arched brows,
          those            eyes,
                pyrophori­c,
                                  opalescent,
                ­                                  lascivious;
                   ­                                          invite--
                         forbidden thoughts
                                            to my mind.

The oyster. Her oyster,
I've been dying to see the pearl,
the moment I and she,
went to swim together,
our eyes, with intense emotions, half closed.
I'll softly touch her with my long, trembling fingers,
swiftly, when I touch,
it would open like a jewel box,
I'll peer inside at all the treasures,
exotic it would be, never forget,
through obsessive nights,
I thought and kept awake, bleary eyed,
I wanted to tell her this,
but then, froze on my tracks.

The oyster, it glows in mind,
she, too pulsates with excitement,
we'll be together, in this submarine adventure.

In that night, our hearts didn't even wink,
sauntering through the still moon lit terrace,
when, one by one stars  
fell in place and adorned the sky's coiffure,
the waves of the sea,  softened
moved in languid salaciousness,
then, at that precise moment,
we came face to face.

The rough grains of sand, under our undulating bodies,
sighed sweet, sang a ***** night gull's song,
searing feel of salty wind  mingled with blood
oozing from love bruise, bites that hurt,
enhanced the pleasure of frothing blood ,
thirsty mating tongues, twirled and twisted.

*Oyster, her oyster, I remember every moment,
tapering in to gentle whispers,
dissolve and be the light, playing with the humming waves.

An ****** haircut,
she does give,
that only a lover can;
sweetly amatory
are the cuts and nicks,
that heighten
my  sensual pleasure.


                  click of scissors -
                  the sound her lips make,
                  when we hesitantly unlock,
                  after a long, squiggly, sloshy kiss.
    

                                            *now, her scissors
                                            get busy, giving the
                                            tips of my hair
                                            sweet pain of love bites,
                                            my ***** are on fire,
                                            goosebumps sow desire,
                                            my eyes, wink and shut,
                                            if I swoon, no wonder,
                                            this sweet torment,
                                            brings me to the limits.

My demure doe,
                                                 -disguised,

                                                gunp­owder keg,
effect of your kiss: more is less;
                                                  -not satisfied,
let us roll
on the  bed,

two primitives,
in need to meld

and get over the desire, primordial,

at the earliest,

your fuse, in this regard
is as short as mine,

*let's ask,
each other
for more:
explode.