SONATA OF THE ETERNAL KISS


103

Give yourself to the air
To what you cannot hold
To feeling, the entered breathing
And expanded until you

No longer had a heart
But became every heart
No longer had lungs
But became every sky

You where the heart begins
You where inhaling and exhaling ends
Fear not the pain, of heavy earthly tragedy
It rolls off your skin

Like childhood forgotten
The metaphors have endured
The love has been inherited
And beauty longs to happen

To awaken to the transient
With pictures of brief hours
That were once yours
Give yourself to the water

To what you cannot hold
To fires that were passions
In weeping in a stranger’s arms
To sleep that felt eternal

And rest that felt like laughter
Where pain can enter, and leave
With no resistance in your body
And maybe those who come after you

Will feel the streams of fullness
In greater degrees, wider magnitudes.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/kiss-28741503

I’ve Swallowed Distant Pollen in your Kiss


46

No one can reckon what I owe
To the wonders of this world
I am grateful for, your wilderness
Like a young girl becoming a woman

You brush your hand over me
And I rise, from the Sea to your Joy
Like the fields being watered
I surge to life in your hands

That know the creativity of Life
Like a blind bird with still so much flight
I roam for continents of your touch
Where wandering lightning might strike

In these loins, yielding in penetration
With the moisture of all that is yielding
Feeling with body, my ceilings of pleasure
Emotional in my lonely house, like a lover

Waiting for you, till you will see me again
No one can reckon what I owe
The brief devouring hope of flesh & soul
My body to rub your kiss, with certain pangs

Stealing the key to my innocence, my blood
On fire for you to continue your pleasing
My wineglass drunk every drop of your moisture
Sipping the roots of your womanhood

As if in your flesh I might find time, salt, whispers
The rumor of wood, green, growing things
No one can reckon what I owe
Life begets life, women bring joy

I am grateful, for the shadows in your moods
Like a young girl becoming a woman
I dare not trespass too close to your curiosity.

Your Hips Beneath my Pregnant Hands


34

You gave me, songs for late hours
I hunger after your rippling
Skin, flesh come alive
Your silver back of cold divinity

Your thighs of shattered sensations
Your hips of warlock-tumult
Wine and kisses, led me to this –
Your small breasts and unexpected

Nipples, your sweet moans
For hard days, your last resort
Of petting me, stroking me
Let us wash our limbs with moisture

And make a cringing siesta
Of our tired bones, weary lungs
I’ll give you French names
In bed, unclothed and free at last

In our naked ease, I’ll give you massages
And detach you from reality like a feather
With circling tongues around your
Wet spot, split heavens like dark rain

Feast on your native smells, vivid heart
I’ll tip your golden buttocks an open leaver
And find great engines of burning there
Wanting your wetness over me without end

And season myself in your whirlpool of lust
You gave me, songs for late hours
I’ll give you blazing gardens of desire
And you will squat on me like a passionate princess.