Radiance In A Dark Room

It’s a snug dark room.

When our voices need to pause,

The outside’s  breakers  keep good time.

To imagine our intimacy   in measures

Is far-fetched.  We’re free form

At last.  Our wretchedness is pushed

At  more distant fogs.  Senses locked

At  actual  joy.

In that snug dark room,

Our eyes  down  for the

Radiance  of our need,

The cadences  for our feeding.

Something Of Our Own

 

when we come home

There’s a mini bar,

&  a not so good book in the drawer,

&  it’s always a shitty windowview.

Yet  It’s  me & you.

We wear sarongs so right from the shower.

We have our oils, our creams,

&  all our powers,

Fun to unleash.

We’re one, at last.

.

We both brought flowers.

.

.

.

When we come home

There’s a mini bar,

But she’ll spill something of our own

Smokey & Irishy in a good glass.

We’re one, at last.

Fragments II (“Greedy”)

                    G R E E D Y

You figure when both my finger rings go;

;

Spinning in some strange sweat,

Psychic-sexual, sorta electical spin

When we come,  It  would convince you

It’s enough.

You’re one among others that won’t own up.

For lovers who share  to want to own  love,

Own  each other,   like dogs,  is just greedy.

You’re one that won’t own up that

It’s enough.

Tryst Test

Can I fairly confess this?

Can I budge from prejudice?

Can we maintain the attention

Our hearts require and request us?

Can we sustain a substantial

session of no pain?

Will we refrain from dreading

Our parting; fast and near,

Refrain from  dreaming

 

 our hearts past it clear?

 

Can I freely confess this?

Can I budge from prejudice

Can we sustain the attention

Our hearts require and request us?

lock down

Security is all tighter than usual

It isn’t business, tonight, as usual

It isn’t all right to let it all slide

Former lovers don’t forget how to get inside

Former lovers won’t relent, when time

enables an easy ride, I’m

maleable and easy.

If I lied & lead her way off

A well lit way in

She couldn’t come

(We wouldn’t come to/ We wouldn’t live)

Visiting hours, exclusive.

 

                          II.

I bristled at this thunder

This willless surrender

I was offered awful fulfillment

A straightforward stretch to a touch

I waited for search engines

To say what the pull  was

Idled, & sidled just next to too much