if I could tell you all of me

through the tears I cry

spilling my love over my smiling, laughing lips

slipping into yours

 

emotions too strong to grasp

cannot be contained

I try to tell in half-sentence babble

love I cannot yet explain

my heart is full

with words too beautiful for speech

 

I could cry into your chest

the story of my soul

sing it to the beat of your heart

I could dream you a vision of me

where words are left unspoken

hoping you can see

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Bob Dylan on a Cold Couch

My fingers learn to do yoga.
They callous at the tips, and I
cannot feel you nearly as well.

Dylan learned to play guitar before
I was born. Had I been in 1950,
I would have run away from home.

Your banjo sings to my skin.
Goose-pimples are like snow-capped peaks
And your song skis my shoulders.

I sing in the car, and the shower,
and crossed-legged on your cold couch.
You prepare breakfast and green tea.

Sometimes fingers dance until
they are broken. Dylan didn’t want
to talk about that, either.

Dawn wakes us in the morning.
I laugh at everything now.
Let us perform on a small stage!

Energy Between Us

energy between us
swells and crashes
live-wire strung lips
poised, soft-wet
tongues entangle
fingertips to faces
palms cradle dizzy heads
butterfly eyelids flutter-close

eager hands explore
quest soft places
map trails of our passion
snaking up under clothes
straps slip from shoulders
pants from hips
bare bodies fall into bed

trunks flush
limbs intertwine
you grow, I blossom
sweet welcome
whispered names
petals parting
entering with a gasp

drum-beat rhythmic
catch-release dance
hips arc to meet
hold deep
hot breath quickens
opera of moans
symphony of climax
trembling into other worlds

energy between us
magnetic fingertips
tracing magic contours
sweat-wet skin
salty under parted lips
whispering promises
starry eyes hold each other
sigh to still
and I welcome the weight of you

Gods of Saturday Night

I wake
too early for a Sunday
mind still buzzing
memory of a kiss between my thighs
still aching, pulsing
I can almost feel your body
still pressed against mine
almost feel your hands
and your fingers…

I love your fingers
Just one fingertip
I lose my words
lose my mind
tongue-tied
heavy eyes
ragged breath
wet and wriggling
beneath your touch
and your mouth…

I love your mouth
manipulating my body
manipulating my mind
your tongue lights fires
but you don’t leave scars
you leave memories
smoldering in me
body begging for more
just one more taste
just one more time.

Your lips kissed shivers
sprawling to my toes
I close my eyes and try
to recapture the night

You say there are rubies in my fingertips
and perfection in my pussy
and with your words and lips
you rewrite the map of my erogeny

You say one day at a time
I fear to look into the future
I didn’t see this coming
I don’t know where it’s going

Moving blissfully moment to moment
if a moment is all we can count on
let’s not keep count
just enjoy

I wake
too early for a Sunday morning
memories
buzzing in my mind
wearing your shirt
the scent of your body
clinging like a ghost
I bury my face into it
praying to the Gods
of Saturday nights.

Light breaks free
from our smiles
bounces off glittering eyes
blinding us to all
but each other
Cheeks sore
from holding our lips
from our teeth
while laughter rolls out
between them
filling the room
It must be made of a gas
lighter than air
We float

Pinky Fingers Crossed

Sliding up on Locust Grove

Foothills speak of mountains

Red clay feet

to find our way

and ears to hear

your dark banjo sing

Patchwork leaves

 

Olfactory memories of a change in season

We roll along

past Atlanta’s maze

and look for roads

to cut walls through slate

 

We can trade

instrument for steering wheel

every couple hundred miles

Creep outa Georgia

singing Nashville songs

Wander trails

with our pinky fingers crossed

Ten Years

I was seventeen when he promised he’d come back to me. We’re both pushing thirty before he calls. We sit across from each other on my screened porch and talk about good times and old friends. We watch our daughters play fairy-princess dress-up though the sliding glass door. I remark at how well they get along. I can’t believe it’s been ten years. His face is the same, just a few pounds fuller. His smile is the same. His eyes are deeper. He holds my stare. He is saying something I am not really listening to, and he moves his knee over one inch to rest it against the inside of mine. For three seconds I can see nothing beyond his pupils and can only hear the sound of the hot blood rushing beneath my skin. I think I feel the porch catch fire, and everything melts. “I have to get something out of the way,” he says and he kisses me with a mouth as soft as I remembered in a hundred dreams. His left hand is in my hair and he brings it to his face and breathes in deep. “You still smell like you,” he says. My heavy eyelids blink only twice before I am called inside to make dinner for the princesses. Over-easy free-range eggs, straight from the hens in my backyard, fried lightly in coconut oil and smothered in organic catsup. He laughs, “I can’t believe I’m in love with a hippie!” I ask if it was the armpit hair that tipped him off. I smiled so much that night that my cheeks were sore the next morning. He never called again.

Ghazal 1

I am neither the rolling wave, nor the warm sand between your toes;

I am the savagery of the tide ripping away at the sea floor.

You were content to sunbathe beneath your golden curls;

I was left to pray to the desert sand for water.

All of my self-proclaimed, prophetic jetsam;

what weak ink to be sloshed upon your paper!

Now that the sun sets, you’ve come to comb for pearls;

my words are picked over, only broken shells remain.

No wonder I fall again, on knees encrusted with blood;

complete abandon, singing bhajans into the ocean.

Adonis

Adonis,

Your body is rendered of my adoration

My heavy exhalations crest the waves of your golden hair

The bubbling spring of my eyes

rest upon the earthy shore of yours

and the flutter of my lashes weighs your heavy lids

My passions hollow the curve of your spine

My hands carve the classical sculpture of your muscles

I kiss creation of space between pronounced bone structures

risen from my fingers

Skin slipped upon them by the heat of my palms

My breasts build your beautiful hands

My nipples erect the temples of your fingertips

to be their place of worship

My sense of smell stole your scent from star-crossed past-lives

and laid it upon you for my olfactory satisfaction

Sweet life breathed into your God-like form

from whispers that caress your gentle heart

and paint the smile of your soft lips

 

Adonis,

You sleep, angelic

Face softened by our intimacy

All signs of furrow erased from your brow

in a single shudder

Your chest rises and falls

to the rhythm of my unfaultering love

While I float in a turbulent lucidity

on the tide of your sacred heartbeat

I daydream myself a Myrrh tree

Bark, like ribs, cracked open

and you tumble from my trunk

Your callow, dewy uncover

lying peaceful beneath my watch

While I stand tall, filleted

Raw barrenness and palpable unrest

 

Adonis,

How I long to be your Aphrodite

and steal your love away, covet your beauty

and make you my own precious possession

But my desire disturbs your concession

My frantic arms have no strength to hold you

My porcelain skin shatters under the weight of imagined rejection

Your unattended lips smolder

and will seek heat from other sources

While mine purse in anticipation

 

Adonis,

Born of my love, or lust

or impatience to feel totality

My eyes paint you picture perfect in memory

while I view this moment through splintered window pane

You are a statue in my Eden

not an angel in my bed

And I am not the myrrh that grows beside you

I am the boar

Tusks sharpened from a lifetime of disappointment

I impale our virgin rapture

and weep at its abortion

 

No, Adonis!

This is not our tragedy

Wake me from this daydream

Take me in your tender arms

I will lie beside you, peacefully

I will thank the Gods for the present

and live in it, fully

I will relinquish the past to lesson

Behold the future when it is now

I will nurture my devotion

And, together, we could bring about

the rebirth of our broken hearts

Instructions for Operating Heavy Machinery

step into my skin

where you can feel

velvet red lips trace contours

throat, collarbone, shoulder, breast

feel whispers of kisses on nipples

the tightening of my back

as it arcs to accept your blessings

 

step into my skin

so you can feel the tickle

the sting

half-wet tresses

whipped against bare belly

earthquake of gasps and giggles

my body writhing beneath you

 

lie inside of me

cradle the weight

of granite sculpted muscles

taut against supple curves

the weight of your smooth thigh

deep between my soft, parted legs

 

reach into my hands

grappling

perfection slipping beneath them

stretch down to my fingernails

etching passion into your back

 

if only you could be my breath

hard, quick, torn from my lungs

hips that ride

the tiny movements of your tongue

toes as they curl

muscles taut-to-snapping

heart thrashing mad

head thrown back

 

live in me

know the desperation of my climax

know why I am rendered into fits

gasping, unable to speak

utterly near to death

every time

you push me

to the peak

flush

ripe

tumbling over the edge

 

 

live in me

be my mouth

taste your nectar

when it’s my turn

to bring you home