On the truth in gossip


57

listen to the stories women
tell other women, O’
I miss my women friends
who would talk a history in a needle
listen to a name, gossip a little
that sound of other places
with a foreign taste
the ripeness of a voice
made vulnerable and accessible
I am no longer a hunter of women
I have only empathy left
In my bones, in my half-smile
You can only live and learn
In this world, there is no disgrace
That lasts forever, only heartbreak
That is extremely normal
So don’t fret, the falling seas
The falling snow, we’ve seen it all before
Listen to the stories of women
To the wisdom passed down
On hearing a name long unspoken
Take a guess as to why you hear it now
Our cries echo in unique ways
And our voice reaches the heart
At the appointed time, maybe
Centuries later, our love is recognized.

I Seal Your Sex


1

My day exploded in your night
And my letters came to life
In your bed, all the poems
In my heart took shape their
In the undressing of our lives

Silently we approached
The hour of the Goddess
And all my dreams
Of platinum literature
Took root in the tree of your womb

I open the lips of your night
Without speaking, but with
A lifetime of poetry carried
In my soul, like golden grapes
I give to you the shadows of the moon

The whiteness of infinity
Your rose burns through the snow
Your flesh dangerously close
To the dawn, and we repeat
The cycle eternally

Male and female, active and passive
Lovingly with all the sleep
And literature and art in our bones.

Prolific


114

in fragile moments of time
there are these rumours of lust
between us, like dipping dusty shelves

with a naked smelling good book
suggestive that we validate each other
like a good story, or a whirled love-affair
there are sultry octaves sweating
between us, beneath the surface

a melody of aberrant kisses that
could swell the shady members
of our bodies like candles and the night

I’m not shy of your erotic tendencies
it’s all perfectly natural I’m sure
why my eyes veer towards your well-rounded
lotus shape, or how you flirt with me
without meaning to, on some level of appetite

of whims of girlish pride, it’s all
the wet whistles between us
the candy-marinated lullaby

and chocolate dreams for fools like us
who have nothing better to ponder
whose lives are glass figures of fragile
promises, swirling vows, eager amusements
youth still has her eyed locked on us I guess

a humid culmination to the loneliness
a rebellion to getting older, our bodies
make secret plans, primed to each other

like biology dipped with inner thirst
a revelation of the flesh and her
prolific ways, these physical polarities
the palpable prophecy of pleasure
that yearns like an unspoken cross-examination.

115

Photo Courtesy:

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Suffuse-486295442

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Michelle-III-486300403

This Surplus of Us


You constituted the grace of time
An Eternity in brief moments sublime
A revelation at the power of ‘us’
Relative and absolute with

Only an idolatry of experience
That I unto Love adjust
A little help to further each Day
That delight would stand to see

My Heaven in your eyes
You said that I would feel ‘secrets’
Spoken even when we were silent
I suit Thee like the poetry of need
The timing of mercy, the looks that near.