secrets are stories
shared at night
the lights too low
to see my eyes
and you can only hear
the voice of reason
its edges
frayed with shame
where my duality
meets the both of you
and we find each other
times two
in the light
of morning
when I wake
to feel your heart
under my hand
so close
I could tear it out
if you hadn’t already
given it to me
when I told you that
secrets are stories
Plan for the day
when a day is a lifetime
of minutes
and moments
measured by inches
and weightless ounces.
Three beating hearts
counting the seconds
when future
becomes past
too soon, for two
who will love him
always.
The spin-doctor
is in the house;
where the universe revolves
around a needless self.
No muttering or stuttering
over lies that come so easily
to Narcissus.
And why want
when the droves deliver?
The weight of your arm
across my chest
An uneven breath
the slightest stir
on the nape of my neck
Fighting sleep that will thieve me away
drowning in covers
tangled legs
smothered in sweetness
drifting on bliss
A flushing toilet
at 3 AM
like rain on a window
or a mother’s cool hand
across a fevered forehead
I’ve waited
sedated
long months for you
Inivited guests bring
invisible threats
drawing lines
in shifting sand
Bending boundaries
between friend and foe
Advance to the front
behind enemy lines
where pain
and passion
are one in the same
More than a handful
becomes a waste
happy slips though fingers
when your eyes
are too big
for your heart
Walking on air
an inch above
good enough
leaves me as breathless
and a mile is
too far to fall
Your voice from a distance
travelling tears
Pain through a portal,
I find you in fog.
Licking it’s lips
it feeds on your fear
A preferred plaything
your terror
it’s toy.
I rage the injustice
stumbling toward you
damned to be David
I falter, I fall.
Confronting depravity
it slowly takes shape
Smoke turns to solid
mirroring me.
A dream becomes nightmare
and shatters in shame.
Take me in haste
No second thought
of consequence
or shame.
Leave through the front door
Bold in your stride
They see you come
and go again.
Another night
of mental masturbation
Beating dead mares
to sleep.
This moment is endless
a spot on the
circle
Ring of eternity
or vultures that
orbit
above picked over notions
Trapped in a
cycle
of rinse and repeat
Misplaced imperfection
that begs the question
What happened there?
Accidental brands
and gathered mementos
Souvenirs of
A well-spent youth
Laugh lines
wander through
a purposeful abrasion
A landmark that leads me
To you
She eats alphabet soup
words drenched
in warm broth
All I want
is talk to you.
Smearing Smarties
in the palm of her hand
she shows me
wet rainbow colours
I see fireworks
from the night before
On the door step
soaked sweet with rain.
Invisible will
forged from iron;
it’s seams.
A cloak
for the daggers
fabric fog
surrounds me.
This costume of comfort
disguises my need.
