âPeople say they donât understand [my songs], but I never believe that.
Itâs like understanding an embraceâŚâLeonard Cohen
<>for cj<>
perhaps, there is someone in this world, who does not
understand an embrace; something physical no doubt.
perhaps, you thought that first kiss was the portal to
shedding the inhibitors, lobes stings, first arousal aroma.
but youâve been practicing embracing from toddler age,
but someday, it traverses from hugs to all-encompassing,
the sensory adaptors, go wild from shock; and you think
to yourself, dear god, youâve been holding back on me!
  <>
two hands,
smooth the shoulders, slide down, elbows grasp,
youâve been taken unawares, while fully aware youâve been,
taken, taken, and need to take, more and back, take again,
and you canât decide between reciprocation or incantation
breaking separation, if only to start over from the last lingering...
touching vibration and every sense erupting, and you think
Iâve never been fully  embraced, and now I understand the
music and muscle of your poetry, and will add my verses,
lay on my stanzas,
ocean crossings, seafaring voyages, exploring hands on hips,
then encapsulating anotherâs face, stroke, not squeezing
arms come to rest on a pacific neck, the hairs tensile teasing,
and you canât believe this newly formed addiction and why
everyone simply doesnât go about constant craving embracing,
racingoverloading uncomprehending, itâs fulsome fulfilling, quenching
a new thirst, a new taste, extending your ******* reach everywhere
you clear the catch, the cache, and your voice now begs, announces,
commands, whispers, screams, so many things that all emerge as
simply a guttural exclamation raw and needy, again, again, again,
you say it as if that was your vocabulary entire, a one word language
because it is, it is, the language of insatiable, the speech of
only love poetry*
embracing.
