now i become
26
tracing steps to those lips
from where you released that
mouth to just squeak almost
into laughlines bursting the
balloon shaped flesh i brushed
past outside your throat
straddling a kiss onto your
thickest region of leg so
whitely scented of fingers to
veil collapsed across my naked
face covering silent moments
with your eastern oval eyes
dancing five legged palms
clutching quietly pressing
those pink breasts to savor
flavors floating into the act
of salting great lakes into
goosebumps
leaning against narrowly
sinking hips revealing rich
hand spread soil where a
crimson night rose laid star
to ground falling deep as
whale songs in your thornless
garden
27
she yawns for poets
twilight stretches precisely
the jaws of my muse like flutes
to allow for sleep wanting
a yawn that she sends tends to
articulate my intoxication
where breaths of musical air
pass lazily into this infinitesimal
moment that flies by me getting
caught in her wings
and if thorns stuck like tulips
to my cheeks i would understand
how an arm so slender as to rest
subtlety across my gardens of heat
leaves that peel away another
exaggerated palpitation could
slip me into that faintest place
of mouth corners colliding like
two metallic silvers opening
natural springs from which pours
forth little breeze whistles
that fall across these awkward
words to touch lips like barely
breathing birds coming uncracked
all these gifts enclosed in her
throat like christmas strawberries
in the mud
28
spring as an obtrusive warm green
hour pokes gentle so ever waking
me from this tender rest to inhale
visions of your naked shoulder
peeking just past this painting
we’ve created with our little last
night whispers submerging the thickest
of morning air
the hand i am trickles mist in your
hair like water that spreads from
my eldest fountain finger chasing
age from where your hip used to raise
and lie under my brush for new colors
to surpass your flesh so pale like
life had escaped this framed world
to leave nothing but dreams to blanket
the absence from my cool retrospect
in searching limited boundaries of
portraits we once lied onto i have
certainly twisted every flower winding
the stems to uproot all the love-me-nots
tasting the kiss of the throat lipped
petals to savor the flavor of your most
delicate inspiration
but the mouth of every blooming seed
tends to dry frozen on thinlet sprouts
of streams being as heavy not to flow
in the direction that once ran where
tears couldn’t dry like the paint killing
your mouth so eternally farther than
kisses could reach into the art your
sleep portrays on mornings of spring
and as sky minute walls fall heavy as
tongues of misery rain infinitely placing
your heavenly body on wet paint pillows
of our flesh slipping untouched into the
eternal undone our too proud nature of
want brushes our perfect tremendous away
29
to examine the slightest gesture
that causes your arms to twirl
as you walk
is to me the very lightest color
surrounding me with spirits of
the more glimmering bells of
cathedrals
to fight your hand that struggles
through that dream that falls and
dies at every turn of your head
is to lie afloat on an almost
unsubmergable body of not giving
into the world that forms as
another flighty beat of heart
could always drown my floor
to caress that ankle so thin that
my whole mouth only might taste
the truth on your tenderfoot
is to lie awake every night until
seeing you is again
and even then you are so every new
that i can only comprehend you to
be too much love to imagine me being
anything more than drunk by your
image of god touch not touching
anything
30
there was a certain elation in
witnessing the distant swagger
that becomes so fragile as to
break every curling flower from
the scent of the stem it was
placed upon
and to watch every unworthy glare
drizzle the alert as she leans
and melts every living eye closed
so that a little wondering can
dance dangerously close to the
flame she is
and the thought of how delicate
a single touch could strip me to
barely jump with a swollen vein
to die and gulp another bloody
reaction to her butterfly dance
strolling through god’s least
miracle step swaying before the
great noise of every slight
movement so as to attempt a
heroic motion of the internal
feminine light folding every mind
chamber into coughing sugar and
sucking dead candy petals as
she kneels before me
and the sweet fire she is flickers
an old movie delusion that is so
lonely in the hot permanence of
her breath
and like movement with flower candy
she soon withers away haunting me
with hands and heartbeats vaguely
turning me into the chalk outlined
disturbance of stillness
and so she is gone dancing with
tendrils and butterflies as i am
left confronting silent movies
31
at the great intricate leg of a
trembling foot is born a simply
magic ghost of timeless wine flowing
atop my shin rubbing that drunk
heat so skillfully chilling me with
your almost beautiful clumsy toes
and if only inches move to kill a
motion that faints like my reminiscent
ride through the most splendid dream
i may believe an illusion before my
eyes like child lips tasting great
arches of moon shoes
to struggle to know nothing but
the broken fragments of sprawled
flesh only silences me with the scent
of this girl's sleeping breath blowing
another paused death
and every portion of skin glows from
lighted windows to allow an examined
pleasant whisper like a breeze falling
to fields swaying a clean wash of
thread lightly winding silk to lie on
pretending water
to say very little of the million
elaborate hairs sweeping the exposed
waiting head of innocent white numb
drops that experience every slow
hand never cutting a dull heart deeper
than smooth impressions of unique you
32
there has been arranged leaves of
such honorable portions of sliced
sustenance falling over me in the
shade where words of the sweet
spontaneous rearrange tastes of
that asleep tongue so dreadfully
curling under me for the preparation
of growing silent windy reminders
pulling such new breath breezes in
the direction of your harmonious
prisons being shadows hiding me
ever so close to crime
and the bite of sinking teeth to
contemplate the beginning fruit’s
sweet juice of satisfying leaking
lips all over that fantastic broken
reassurance of embracing limbs
across your tangy only kiss
every thought untouched and hanging
like newborn kindred colors of strange
angels holding heavy water above the
thirsty mouth of wait being as quietly
patient for that distant voice to crease
the clenched singled drop of nectar rain
to crash suddenly into today’s miserable
tree of empty hands
and a piece of simply sun sets a
warm guide beside me that leads
cracked hearts from old loves to
new leaves blowing freedom from
the confinement of shadows
33
music box
if ever those radiant trembling
jewels of your eyes peer into
a drowsy loneliness that clouds
your glorious mystery that so
endlessly allows my light to
shine
then please let those star
creatures sigh in their natural
glimmering pools to slide you
comfortably close to that old
tin music machine where gardens
blaze symphonies of our laughing
children hiding behind their
enormous smiling hunger
if ever allows you to find our
rosy cheeked creations feeding
on the want of bursting all the
walls that hold us inside this
dreaming playground
then dance once with me behind
our last favorite wall standing
on its feet of tendril and vine
waltzing us like little boxes
of sleep bells opening for your
last gasping yawn of legs gliding
into toys
if the miserable time has come
for you to shut the door on our
house of sleeping music where i
will patiently descend the stairs
of this dark castle with only the
candle of your last touch to
guide me to our empty yards
alone
then don’t forbid me to dream
of every upcoming moment that
will be opened to play our most
gentle furious passion to lie
atop burning gardens of play as
we slowly sink into mouths of
wax
and