Brother Andrew
spreads the page
of the book bound

with his hug palm.
I take in
the chill

in the large room;
he towering,
smiles

his Manchurian smile.
It were way
room were laid

in cell
that brought me in,
this monastery,

he says.
The page edges
were of blue and red.

He kisses
her hip;
lips on skin
and feels bone.

She moves
in intimacy,
hones in
on his lips
in the moist moment.

She curves
about him
like a serpent,
her legs
about his waist,
bringing him in
to harbour
like a pilot
brings in
a large ship
to home port.

Hip to lips,
lips to skin;
sense now
the hot dips.

there's almost always
an ambiguity
between what my words mean
and what my mind intends them to mean.

like, with loving intention, i tell her
i can't praise you enough

she smells a ploy in praise and enough.

she interprets them as
she hasn't done enough to deserve my praise.

then, when i tell her
with age you're maturing in beauty

she takes them to mean
i'm digging at her age
and her beauty is in doubt.

last, but not the least
when i compliment her thus
you've made my life full

she retorts

no more fooling.

I want sunflowers
On my doorstep
And butterflies
In my hair

I want sand
Between my toes
And seashells
In my hand

I want raindrops
On my lips
And your breath
Against my skin

I want your fingers
Playing with my hair
And my knees
Going weak

I want the world
To stop
When you press
Your lips to mine

I want to see the sunset
In your arms
And the stars
To twinkle in your eyes

I want to be
The only girl you'll ever need
And for forever
To start with me

At the mid noon hour
above the cell tower
over two frolicking kite
swoops a plane on flight.

It has grazed the sky
spotless and dry
smelling ground cavorts
nigh is airport.

Amid wind's flutter
diurnal moon quarter
eyes droop to a rest
weighed with dreams' harvest.

The plane port bound
is circling on a round
waiting landing call
slowing to a crawl.

Love this time alone
up from dirt and grime
fiddling my cellphone
keying nonsense rhyme.