For a moment
he held her in his arms,
and it still thrilled him
to feel the familiar places
on which his love for her
had moved, had been comforted.
And yet, she had moved away;
she had something else to do,
her mind far from the pleasure
of an embrace.

Retreating, he felt his body
in a different place
enmeshed with the length of her,
the cool loveliness of her skin
and, after much care and dedication
to the business of touch and stimulation,
she would become unto herself,
unto her body’s own desire.
But , it was not to be,
and he turned to his book,
to page 99.

Chatting cold conspiracies from across the coffee table.

Pangaea on the rocks - sweet, sober, civil silence.

When did the degradation become so severe?

Time ticks down and friendships fade to acquaintances.

Spine tingling tempo of the pitter-patter rain drop percussion.

Galloping triplets trickling down from the temples of thunder.

Hands of the clock clap in celebration of another hour killed.

Two o’ clock Coca-Cola to crown the king of carbonation *****.

Naming off artists to impress the drunken temptress.

Taunting the room filled with glimmer-eyed, lovestruck libidos.

All the kids are struggling to remember the horoscope they skimmed.

Brains drained to the point of puking in mouths, poisoning the passion.

With whiskey laced erections, this night chants a swansong.

Illegal lane changes and tiptoe key turning roustabouts.

The Hubble eye can’t detect the silent thoughts left hidden.

Dreams within dreams, lost in a cloud of exhaled acceptance.

Tonight, you fizzled, and tonight, you sleep alone.

These are the danger days. Timber!

The black snow runs down from the rooftops;
A red finger dips into your brow;
Blue snow flakes sink into the empty room,
They are a lovers’ dying mirrors.
Heavy and torn to pieces the mind muses,
Follows the shadow in the mirror of blue snow flakes,
The cold smile of a deceased harlot.
The evening’s wind weeps in the scent of carnations.

Cruel saints
Spoke like whimper dolls
And wished the world more
Than what it was

Loft and mind
Comes crumbling every dawn
When the bell tolls morn
Reality shakes our walls

Those hands of a dreamer
Calloused wrists or fitful lids
Fit in that hollow
Of your chest so easily
And warm breath rather suits
Cold air, rather than lips
Tender sleeves never could
Keep our fingers from wandering
. . .
The pages of your soul

Decipher
And fall apart
What terror
Lies in our hearts

Decipher
And fall apart
What terror
Lies in our hearts

I feel you in every way
I see your mistakes
And I hate you for them
And you fail when you try to ammend them
Because failure is all you know
That's why mirrors are a no show for me
Because the hopeless face of your enemy
It's in truth a reflection of your own