He
humbled himself:
knelt his desire at the foot of his flower's bed
like a penitent sinner. He
saw her
overwhelmed with green, and understood
her hard earth would soften by offering a little water.
Stretched across her wooden frame, using bare-skinned hands,
he skillfully removed each weed suffocating his garden.
Between fore-finger-and-thumb tips he caressed each hole
carved into her withering leaves, and determined in his heart
to exterminate the devouring creatures.
He remembered to turn the soil.
At the side, he unwound the hose attached to the house
and unstopped the faucet–
water-consumed-drought-jumping-inside-her-dark-belly
resurrecting roots giving up the ghost.
Exhausted and dewed, he rested...
Many nights he communed beneath the stars,
savoring tuberose, honeysuckle, moonflower and cereus...
... and was satisfied.
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Love
See the moon,
how it glows in the night:
its afro brimming,
outlined by the sun’s light,
and living in a halo?
how it glows in the night:
its afro brimming,
outlined by the sun’s light,
and living in a halo?
Dancing with You
Dancing with You is like,
drinking from a fountain--
refreshing,
a cool splash-inside
on the back of a dry throat.
A desert resurrected.
Dancing with You is like,
new life—
refreshing,
a return of breath to empty, decaying flesh-
motion to stillness-
and a return of marrow to once hollow bones.
Decay reversed, and a beat returned to a still-born heart.
Dancing with You is like—
humm…and I am afraid, for I have
2
left
feet.
drinking from a fountain--
refreshing,
a cool splash-inside
on the back of a dry throat.
A desert resurrected.
Dancing with You is like,
new life—
refreshing,
a return of breath to empty, decaying flesh-
motion to stillness-
and a return of marrow to once hollow bones.
Decay reversed, and a beat returned to a still-born heart.
Dancing with You is like—
humm…and I am afraid, for I have
2
left
feet.
Cinnamon & Nutmeg
His heart beats as mine-
us intertwined-
two curved lines in sync in our own time-
fully aligned.
We are the only two, one-of-our-kind
for I am he and he is mine.
His arms return my embrace-
his chest too.
In the strength of his hold I am fully encased.
Cleft in the rock and cradled by his breathe,
I escape, for the moment, life’s painful race,
hanging my tired soul, wet like linen whites, on the nails of his embrace.
His backbone sways to envelope my weight,
drinking me in, digesting me fully--I am not his mistake.
He returns my gaze with an emboldened stare,
his smile meets mine erupting there a delectable-little-flare.
Caressing his likeness within my cheeks,
he brands me with a simple kiss; we are what the other seeks.
Ever absorbent of the sounds I make,
knowing what I say before words take shape
yet remaining patiently still, listening, till my air breaks
and out pours my insides-- He waits,
knowing when to give and when to simply take
(he penetrates without coming into my space).
A forest above me, is he
absorbing the beatings of the sun.
His left hand firmly fans within the lumber of my spine
around him I wind, and hold on for dear life.
His shoulders are two mountain ranges lovingly erected on either side of me.
Where do I lay my head to rest? On his chest…
where I nurse on the milk of his
reciprocity.
us intertwined-
two curved lines in sync in our own time-
fully aligned.
We are the only two, one-of-our-kind
for I am he and he is mine.
His arms return my embrace-
his chest too.
In the strength of his hold I am fully encased.
Cleft in the rock and cradled by his breathe,
I escape, for the moment, life’s painful race,
hanging my tired soul, wet like linen whites, on the nails of his embrace.
His backbone sways to envelope my weight,
drinking me in, digesting me fully--I am not his mistake.
He returns my gaze with an emboldened stare,
his smile meets mine erupting there a delectable-little-flare.
Caressing his likeness within my cheeks,
he brands me with a simple kiss; we are what the other seeks.
Ever absorbent of the sounds I make,
knowing what I say before words take shape
yet remaining patiently still, listening, till my air breaks
and out pours my insides-- He waits,
knowing when to give and when to simply take
(he penetrates without coming into my space).
A forest above me, is he
absorbing the beatings of the sun.
His left hand firmly fans within the lumber of my spine
around him I wind, and hold on for dear life.
His shoulders are two mountain ranges lovingly erected on either side of me.
Where do I lay my head to rest? On his chest…
where I nurse on the milk of his
reciprocity.
My Lover's Lips
“I'm jealous of you.
To you he retreats with for his daily embrace
always neglecting mine,suckling you between his folds
smoothly, gently
time after time.
Day after day,
hour after hour
he sits with you as his comfort
and I wish to become you so that
I might touch him, taste him, and he might need me, desire me
just as he does you
so faithfully.
Your narrow white body slips gracefully between his lips
feeling his wetness and the pressure of his inhalation.
I watch you nestling with his fingers-
a conversation my body has never had the pleasure of having.
While he clings to you, ignoring your slow poison,
he rejects the pureness of my heart and the cleanliness of my love.
Ohh, how I envy you for stealing time from me and leaving me
out in the cold, and old
shall I be
without a love story to be told.
Even when you are not around
there you remain,
his every breath
stained.
My lover’s lips are truly divine.
Yet it is you, not I, that receive of the wine,
a liquid velvet never to be mine,
that ferments daily between his couch’s split
and drips
from the tips
of my lover’s full lips.
You constantly burn, but not as I
with nothing of love pulsating through your insides.
You drop as ash to floor
leaving him unsatisfied and wanting more.
I too burn, but with a passion and a delight
at the sight of him, hoping
for just one taste, one lick, one long kiss goodnight
or a sensual bite…
I sit and wait
for him to let go of your bait
but as time waves goodbye
pieces of me die,
and my heart returns to her bedchambers to sob and to cry
.…and what I find most lamentable
is that I
am jealous of
you
a cigarette.”
To you he retreats with for his daily embrace
always neglecting mine,suckling you between his folds
smoothly, gently
time after time.
Day after day,
hour after hour
he sits with you as his comfort
and I wish to become you so that
I might touch him, taste him, and he might need me, desire me
just as he does you
so faithfully.
Your narrow white body slips gracefully between his lips
feeling his wetness and the pressure of his inhalation.
I watch you nestling with his fingers-
a conversation my body has never had the pleasure of having.
While he clings to you, ignoring your slow poison,
he rejects the pureness of my heart and the cleanliness of my love.
Ohh, how I envy you for stealing time from me and leaving me
out in the cold, and old
shall I be
without a love story to be told.
Even when you are not around
there you remain,
his every breath
stained.
My lover’s lips are truly divine.
Yet it is you, not I, that receive of the wine,
a liquid velvet never to be mine,
that ferments daily between his couch’s split
and drips
from the tips
of my lover’s full lips.
You constantly burn, but not as I
with nothing of love pulsating through your insides.
You drop as ash to floor
leaving him unsatisfied and wanting more.
I too burn, but with a passion and a delight
at the sight of him, hoping
for just one taste, one lick, one long kiss goodnight
or a sensual bite…
I sit and wait
for him to let go of your bait
but as time waves goodbye
pieces of me die,
and my heart returns to her bedchambers to sob and to cry
.…and what I find most lamentable
is that I
am jealous of
you
a cigarette.”
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