reflections

the third rock that i threw
frightened me most of all
the vehemence of it
the jagged waves rippling out
and in like fangs bared

and when the water grew still
on bended knee i peered within
and saw a sullen dwarf
babbling about babies and trees
with a lisp that tore my soul

i wept at the sight and sound
of my self so poorly patterned
that i could wander naked
through each day unseen, unheard
amusing to a fault

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breathe

breathe, i sighed
and exhaling fitful
cry while pensive lines
define impermanent pleading me

breathe, i sighed
breathe and wholly be
becoming more than seems
more than she may gleaning need

breathe, i sighed
and thus inspired strive
with such timid quiet words
to ever deserve most hopeful she

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a moment

there was a moment
i am quite sure
before the sun rose
over the mountains
caressing calm the waters below
but i cannot seem
to recall it now

i remember staring
with utter contentment
at the suggestive shadows
of her softly sensual lines
teasing my hands
to recall the warmth
of her skin

i breathed and smiled
unseen and closed my eyes
for just a moment
yet when i opened them again
the sun was stretching eager
and brazen across the gently rising
and falling of her breasts

and i at once
quite jealous and needful
and so deftly determined
did drive the hungry light
of this most presumptuous
sun swiftly away
with my trembling lips

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cathedral

her body, i avow, is a cathedral
of most natural persuasion
adorned by the mother of us all,
and i am her most persistent
and passionate worshipper

as i gaze upon her slumbering form
my eyes describe her pulsing veins
like crimson vines imparting life
beneath her ever lustrous skin
glowing sensually under the sun

my ardor invokes her avid lines,
her curves, her quickly reddening hues
her deeply sky-born shadows
shimmering with reflective heaven
high above her careful spine

prayerful as needs, i breathing touch
her naked flesh tempting, teasing
rivers running pooling, parting her soil
i insistent kneel in this valley
drawing her forth, wet and glistening

my hands urge her fertile warmth
my fingers tracing the hardened mound
of her most hidden, sacred love
adored by this prostate zealot
who murmurs moaning verses

over the scent of lilac
and sesame

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me

there is this me who
too keenly sees the
distinctive moments
between my yesterdays
and our finest todays

you have seen him too
heard his doubtful cries
the whying whines
evoking a consistency of
hopeless demeanings

and yet only you have seen
more, beyond this deeming
this perilous seeming
perceiving a me more duly
more truly conceived

and in your believing am I
not so richly adorned
nor indeed a prince of men
but me—just me as I am
with all my faults and fears

yet still desired by you and so
somehow worthy of your heart
am I more perfectly me
in being loved by you I become
the man I truly wish to be

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c’est la vie

when they first eager asked me
about my religious persuasion
i must admit i was quite
tempted to wholly confess

i am a devotedly impenitent christian
a heartily unmerciful muslim
a fiercely monotheist hindu
and a slothfully unobservant jew

i am the most impatient buddhist
you may ever encounter
an egregiously unimaginative shaman
a chaotically imbalanced animist

shamelessly i imbibe a fruity wine
and guzzle a heady dark beer
and don’t even get me started
on the joys of a good schnitzel

in polite company i smiling strive
to maintain a decency i lack
while counterfeiting a selfless demeanor
that i do truly abhor

when i with heartiest aspiration
your hand in mine do take
or a kiss to your cheek convey
beware of my roaming hands

cross me and i with callous calm
will curse the day of your birth
not unlike how frequently i have
found cause to curse my own

truth be told
when it comes to piety
i’m a bit crap
c’est la fecking vie

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beast

these words are not mine
that singe the yielding skin
of your breasts your neck
your ears hungrily hearing
some other voice than mine

surely these lips are not mine
that slide over your silky throat
so salty quivering, tongued
more than toothful blending
love with furious desire

nor are these hands mine
that even now around your neck
insistent linger clinging
wringing that you screaming
beg for desperate release

whose thoughts are these
that pleading ply such needing
over this skin that once
was mine but now shrouds
a dignity shredding beast

no answer worthy of him
whom once i thought myself to be
could perceiving read these creases
along my face as i trembling
release myself into you

and yet the growl that claws
its way from out this throat
expresses keenly the wolf
once chained within—yes—me
and being freed at last, at last

must forever penetrate the depths
of you, explore the burning flesh
of you, grasping your tangled hair
licking, tasting, needing always
to devour, my beloved, you

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