Drawn by the pull of possibility
I am at war with resistance
tempted by persuasion and the
dynamic momentum of hands
on taut shoulders
the gravitational press on tangled
knots and willowy limbs that succumb to
a black spell night
your kiss is kindle igniting
the perfect fire
Come dawn I am a periwinkle
at your pillow
tender petals bending to what
art by Andre Belinchenko
In this dream I turn to you
light my cigarette from the glowing
tip of yours.
I propose we fly away.
Your dark eyes whip my mind
into arousal and your elegant hand
on my thigh turns me soft inside.
Your breathing is a sigh against
my ear that whispers my hair
and crimson lips so near devours
Against waves of longing and desire
dreams are always what it could
Suddenly hares chase foxes
and Roebucks hunt hunters and
to shield me from the terror you
hold me within bleak arms.
We are light breathing
sweet molecules into the night
It would be easy now to fly.
When I am near you I become a glimmering
chimera of mirrors tempered of shell and sand
a cascading niagara plunging into deep pools of desire
where I am so afraid to fall.
Powerless to hold back I immerse in the irides of your eyes
as speechless as tongueless birds.
The current of tides tangles you in the succulent
mirage of my eyelashes. You and I are more than
the wispy smoke of clouds or an epoch of bones
but the breathing air of lovers rushing through veins
as gentle or fierce as the press of your thigh on mine.
A kingdom of sand castles
feathered sea oats and
we are the wild rose
etched in the sand
The scent of your cologne
Hangs on the air
a stem from a wine glass
wedged between shells.
Our hollowness is the dust of stars
you remain my mystery
your lips the taste of
Rough Waters by Gustav Klimt
I wonder about your kiss
does it taste of honeyed oranges
summer has turned to fall and
my hair is the color of autumn leaves
for you I’ve a garland of abalone that
I plucked from the banks of the river
Though I have wrapped you in the
warm breeze of my embrace
I fear we will never kiss
still memory loves you
On a mossy hill behind a mock castle
we will read Aristophanes to harems
of nymphs strumming their lyre.
Words transform to birds flitting
hearts of lovers while I contemplate
the perfect angle of your face
breathe in the amber resin of pine trees
that permeate our senses
There in the unruffled pools of your eyes
I will die just a little
You want her to be real
A half smile curve of lips
a glide of a hand through hair
You want to be her clothes
falling as she unfolds to the
sound of heels on a marble floor
her feet have formed the shape of her
shoes and when she arches her back
she soars as high as imagined
wings can fly.
art by Luigi Quarti “fallen angel”
I feel you
at the razor edge of madness
in the fierce break of waves along
the sea line
a half moon fading at dawn
in shifting shadows of endings.
I feel you in the sweet froth
and flow of memory.
In dark eyes that catch mine in
musty corridors of dreams
I see you
in the wild of wolves
the vigil of birds at my midnight window.
I sense you in sacred passages
where like phantoms we are lost.
art by Karol Bak
cover the sky with your hand
the summit of your palm is the moon.
Your fingers are streams of stardust
sweeping across ancient dunes
or the slender branches of willows
gliding through desert sand
soft and sediment.
Your words sting like bees that linger
thawing like ice on your tongue.
The heart of every woman you have
loved lives inside me
the cracking bones of beating wings
resounding against fixed walls
whispers of moments come and gone.
Recall my eyes as time,
you have lived here a thousand years