floating and leaving no trace
there were titans once
hecatonchir with fifty heads
and one hundred arms each
if i had one hundred arms
i would never stop
embracing you
if i had one hundred hands
i would want all five hundred fingers
tracing circles on your skin
if i had fifty mouths
fifty pairs of lips
would kiss you
if had had fifty tongues
each would whisper
my love to you
all the titans are gone
and i have only two hands
and one mouth
i hope it is enough
though you deserve
more
the wind moves
in this grove
rustling the tall grass
the hollow grass
they strike each other
played like instruments
knocking
knocking
dappled light
filters through green
and yellow
yellow and green
it is easy to forget
the blue of the sky
the cold sunlight
the cold sun
nature is a mouth
longing to kiss
to force open our mouths
and drive in a frantic
desperate tongue
it runs its hands over
the sensitive parts
of our bodies
causing shivers
and tingles
and longing
inflaming the flesh
like a lover
bent on seduction
that sky
those clouds
even the hawk with
his breakfast
still squirming in his
talons
just fingers seeking
the quickest way
into our hidden recesses
there is no resolve to break
the heat of the sun
lingers long after
i have escaped
to air-conditioned indoors
in spite of a thick
layer of sunscreen
and the hat with that flap
that covers the neck
like i’ve been on safari
it tingles like a memory
that won’t form–
a vague image in the foggy
edges of a dreaming mirror
or a desire that won’t
expose itself to the light
hiding under the skin
to preserve itself
and the skin
she crawls on top of me
her skirt sliding up over
her thighs
bare knees pressed
against my hips
i can feel her heat
through my jeans
she leans down
her hair brushes
against my face
and she whispers
bearing down on me
like a fire
like the sun
her mouth against my ear
she whispers
“it’s okay if we do this”
and she presses down against me
and I slide my hands up her back
and find her skin
and her breath is fire
the throbbing pulse in your throat
the great river of heat coursing through you
the swelling of your chest
the filling lungs
the punctuated catching of breath
the mouth that barely opens
the lower lip caught between teeth
the eyes that close tight
the back that arches
the hands raking through my hair
and the release of it all
the police set up barricades
that didn’t stem the endless tide of cars
in and out of the neighborhood
just slowed them down
and we had to park pretty far away
since you wanted to get out and walk
which was the better way
to see the christmas lights
it was cold for a southern california december night
and talking with you
i watched my breath form vapor clouds
your breath came out like steam too
and our breath mingled
a miniature weather system
between us
i gave you my jacket
the long green overcoat
i had bought secondhand
and we walked close
like we shared ribs and organs and bloodflow
and we barely noticed the grinch and snoopy
the parade of lit-up wisemen
a hundred santas that burned
as bright as the afterimage of fireworks
when i slipped my hand into the false pocket
and found your skin
warm inside in spite of the cold
we had to hurry back to the car
These dark pixels
Resemble
Splotches of ink
Themselves poor substitutes for thick, heart-heated blood
These pixels
Dance down the screen
These blackened bits of light
Whisper into your ear
With a hand pressed warm against your shoulder blade
The fingers light upon the rise in your neck
With a tickling breath on your cheek
And a meaning that you can feel
Crawling inside you
Though you can’t make out a single
Word
the wind
tugs
at your hair and
i stop myself from
pushing it back
behind your ears
because that casual touch
my fingertips
brushing against you
is not
enough
I’d like to write a poem every day and see where it takes me. Maybe I’ll write a brand new poem each time. Maybe I’ll post revised versions of poems. Maybe I won’t do anything. Who knows.
Here’s the first one.
We could hear the couple
In the next room
Well, I could hear them since
You slept on and on
While they moaned
And the man said “don’t stop”
And the woman obviously didn’t
And I closed my eyes and tried to
Remember what the neighbors looked like
Tried to picture them in my mind
But stopped myself from waking you
You needed your sleep
After all
And I was the only one afflicted
With the sounds of lust or love or just
Hooking up
And I stopped myself from waking you
Kept my hands to myself
And you didn’t wake up to hear them
And the feelings
Weren’t contagious
After all
Words and Feathers 