Saturday, September 18, 2010

coupling and/or fitting

a photograph
of coupling
[a sip...]
a bar napkin
an empty bottle.

i turn your memory face down.

seating for just one
[a few more]
a letter
another empty bottle
on an otherwise
empty table.

a picture with no name-
of a place that looks familiar...

starlight found
in the glove box;
weather found
in our breath;
solace found
at the lip of the tap;

and now,
nowhere to digress.

welcome home.

antibody parts, or, delicate; weary (parts I-V)


i dream about you
when you are sitting right in front of me

it's simple
and control-aware
but covert and coveting
all the same

i dream about
your legs;
your hands;
your hips;
that spot,
where your neck
meets the back of your jaw;
that place
where i place my hand-
when my lips
confront your words
and cut them short
with a swift,
and fluid movement

that split second
when earth meets gravity
and the gravity of this moment
displays the moment we left behind

it was important once

that we will covet again
a later
that was here all along.


can we just stop?

just pull over
the car;
the cover;
the last
shivering moments,
from our faces
and arbitrary foreground(s)...


can i just tell you...?

i touch you in my sleep,
carving my name
across your flesh,
with the tip of my tongue.

i crease the edge
with longing
and calling...


when contact(ing),
leads to perforation,
there's only so much
time, before we start
to drown in presence...


i found our halos
in a first aid kit,
under the stairs.

and it occurred to me-

if we could just stop,
i could still love you.


i follow her gaze
because she is
'nothing to speak of'
and i've
nothing to speak on.

the grace of her lips
become bluish
in the hesitant culture
of pioneering
new ground;

eyes closed,
gripping rigid breath;

hands all over
in open intensity;

tongue in cheek;

a grain of salt.