"zinfadel" poems
you drape your wrists over my shoulders
and pull me in a little closer,
and now our hips are slightly touching
our silhouettes dancing across the window pane
(our breaths are sharpening
and quickening,
our heartbeats are synchronizing
and stuttering,
our feet are stum-stum-stumbling
as our bodies slowly start to sway)
you whisper “i love you” softly in my ear
and graze your lips across my cheek
(leaving a trail of wildfire
kisses, set torches to skin,
a blinding flash of pearly teeth)
you taste sweet of white zinfadel
and i a hint of cigarette smoke
(i am drunk off of intoxicating love,
as you press your mouth
against my throat)
and i am etching lustful verses
with fingernails and curses
digging words, desperately,
down the length of your back
and we are slipping into love
as though that’s all there ever was
(and we are lost,
and we are found,
and we are lost,
and we are found)
and i am getting lost
in the heart of your forest eyes
and i am, i am, i am screaming:
"this, this, this is heaven!
and i am never—and i mean—never— coming back!”
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
how much longer will I wait for butterflies bursting red at the wings, fiery orange curling their tips into flames
today is long and heavy like the space before a goodbye
i watch a moss-backed turtle float on clouds above the water and I think of you,
of coiled garter snakes and soft pink sunsets, of warm lentil soup and white zinfadel and fern forests and I know,
I would not be enough for you
settled in the space between sun and moon I am two parts water, one part fire,
I am boiling hot springs set on a river deep, bubbling and breaking and gasping for air,
I am summer thunderstorm, hot rain and violent life and love without control,
I am ocean fissure, the space between, red hot lava shifting slowly like a lover beneath the sheets
I am self-contradiction, all crab-shell and shape-shifter and the answerer of my own questions,
I am crystal cave heart and loose leaf mind, waterfall eyes and moonshine smile, you cannot tame me but you cannot let me go
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 4:40 PM UTC