Water and Air

A whimsic bird uncaged she flies alone
Across a moonlit earth til dawn’s face shone,
She’s carved from air, released to shape the winds,
Change their direction as befits her whims.
Beneath her beating wings in waters dark
Through currents cuts a silent, lonesome shark
Who free to churn the oceans in pursuit
Of life, the waves he thrashes; they dilute
In air above. Two elements unite;
A hurricane impassioned they alight
On land. In time distance between them wanes
Transforming storm to fog, yet two remain.
When sun arises steaming them with heat,
They dissipate; water and air repeat.

My Blues

Wine in my veins
Soaks me in fields of ripened grapes
Hewn from seeds of blues
That play on my strings,
Traveling up and down the frets.

But the bass line, the steady rhythm
That sustains my desire,
Resounds in recesses of want
That become a need to
Be the instrument
That feeds his soul.

Fragments

Laid out on a slab of broken tears
I rolled to my side feeling the shards
Piercing the emptiness in
My back
My arm
My neck
My thigh
It shouldn’t have hurt
A hollow vessel
But each wedge
Each grain of ice
Cut

Instead of crying out
I lapsed into the beauty of feeling
Something
Anything
To fill the casket that bled
Onto a white beach
And washed into the Gulf

Heat
Void of color
Seeped into my remains
And the light that burst
From its abundance
Lifted my ruins
Into the sea breeze
And delivered the fragments
To the sun.

His Music

When crickets chirp to soothe the nightmares he
Combats each time in darkness lays his head,
His dreams unravel trailing words and notes
Upon the mattress. Sliding down the bed,
The melody sails swiftly into night,
And taking flight the air its chords embrace
Til floating into windows open wide
The music lights upon her brow awake.
Her heartbeats match the rhythm of his sighs
Now woven into tapestries of sound,
And blanketing spirit and body, songs
On flushed skin flood desire, almost drowned.
But gasping in her hunger she draws breath
Together souls wend towards a petit death.

Touched

Was I touched
When I hummed a tune
I had never before heard,
When I swayed in a dance
I had never before seen,
When I plucked strings on an instrument
I had never before played,
Or when I loved a soul
I had never before known?

His Meal

Dinner,
A dance of minced garlic,
Chopped onion,
Diced cilantro
Mixed in a dish destined to meld
Sweet, tangy, sharp and subtle.
His lips enfold nourishment;
His tongue savors
Bursts of aromatic lust.
And as he folds his napkin on the table
At the end of the meal,
I feel his soul piercing me,
A skewer to fire my body over slow-burning coals
That last into the quiet morning dew.
Once sated, he begins again;
Soothing cascades drench my parched thighs,
And I welcome the slippery blanket
That heals my wounds.

Lightning Bolt

I drink my sangria
Content with the sweet tang rolling on my tongue
When I hear a short burst of sound.
In my hazy state I lift my compact future,
Something in my youth I never imagined would call to me,
And click on the lightning bolt striking desire in me for
Someone who seeks me,
Someone who wants me,
Someone who burns for me.
When I see his name
I touch the screen imagining I’m touching lips soft and eager;
I see eyes, languid yet bright.
My day blankets us, encircling us in a cocoon,
Blossoming into fragile flower petals in a sunlight so bright
That I must close my eyes tightly clenching them until
Drawing out each word long and slow
His mouth whispers in my hair,
His tongue moistens my breasts,
His weight presses into mine.
And wrapping my legs around his words,
I gather him in closer, waiting, shivering,
Anticipating the moment he fingers my soul
And plunges his truth into my body, meeting acceptance,
Absolution and love.