Today I threw wide
those carved doors that hold
so many souvenirs.
The scent of sandal wood
filled the air and I thought
By tonight I will be in La Jolla
that marvel of constellations,
the air as salty as sea lions.
Nostalgia is taboo among the
honey cake dunes.
Maybe I will stay there forever
paint everything that flickers
I may not think of you at all.
Sometimes I see myself through
your eyes, my pale face so in love,
aching for the caress of that
flaxen haired boy racing
through rolling wheat fields.
Suddenly serious your adventurous
eyes sent shivers through me.
I longed for your touch anytime and
we kissed open mouthed without
I adored your mock anger when
chasing after me and the awkward
way you looked down at your hands.
Soon Autumn threw its shadow on
sprouting wheat, smooth and wet.
From the half closed door I hear the
whisper of your breathing and know
there are different kinds of love,
wild , ruthless, and unafraid.
art by Rob Hefferan
Tell me how you pass the hours.
That slanted smile,
does it hide shackles of pride
(I have mine too).
You are my obsession,
undulating sensations that
can’t be restrained.
What I know of you
I have learned through osmosis,
the taste of ozone, like breathing air.
In worldly dreams I am wearing leather
waiting for you in a Parisian cafe.
Is there shame in what we are compelled to do? tell me
art by Michael Garmash
I need an oasis
a still life where I am fixed
my hair snared in cattails
that smell of the sea.
Drooping moon flowers
awakening at night glistening with
abalone and the incoming tide.
I need a crimson sky, the rising red sun
binding my horizon refusing to fade.
art borrowed from google