far
from fiction all my diction
absent
of all prediction
makes
every claim with burning flames
within
this love which i proclaim
the
waves construe to dance with you
caressing
skin of ashen hue
the
moon may shine with lesser light
but
i see shadows of delight
this
ice cream cone will not atone
for
flavor found in all alone
although
your distance isn’t much
you
are too far if we can’t touch
no
nom de plume have i assumed
in
desert dry or all abloom
for
what i write is always real
even
if themed in love i feel
no
heat deceit, i will repeat
my
love’s an angel in defeat
securing
strength from your divine
the
waves have tossed you into mine
sand
encrusted flesh on bone
upon
this beach where we’re alone
my
breath is stolen by your kiss
suffocating
without remiss
the
string undone holding your top
hands
harvesting my favorite crop
groping
garners passionate sighs
amidst
your moans i’d gladly die
my
hand imprisons back of neck
our
tongues collide, a violent wreck
your
nails impale in mindless need
a
rose can grow from just one seed
we
consummate without a cause
sign
contracts without any clause
then
rest beneath the voyeur stars
my
smoke refills the reservoir
you
are re-clothed, waves i adorn
water
derides with bitter scorn
but
i ignore their mockingbirds
recite
dhalgren’s opening words”
“To
wound the autumnal city.
So howled out for the world to give
him a name.
The in-dark answered with the wind.
All you know I know. Careening astronauts
and
bank
clerks glancing at the clock before lunch;
actresses
cowling at light-ringed mirrors and freight
elevator
operators grinding a thumbnail of grease on
a
steel handle; student riots; know that dark women
in
bodegas shook their heads last week because in
six
months prices have risen outlandishly; how
coffee
tastes after you’ve held it in your mouth, cold,
a
whole minute.” – Samuel R. Delany
i
look at you slightly bemused
your
hand beckons as if to choose
a
life of love without decay
into
your arms i make my way
***
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