Oh, Death

A dangerous thing—

Courting one’s death.

The sweet whisper—of Wintergirls;

Angels—Tempting us—to Fly—

Soar to Sirenum Scopuli.

“Renounce the Spirit of Death”—

What I chose not to do.

That Spirit remains—

Enchanting—what might have been.

Along came a Singer;

Along came a Weaver;

And then—came you—

Another who had stood

Out on the Edge—Wait for me—

If I take—one more step—

Welcome your death—

He’s always waiting—nearby. 

A Hug in the Right Direction

Cafés—Parks—

His place—Mine—

All are fans

But I’m loath to commit—

Laughter—Tears—

Blithe and full—

Will his touch

Lead where Desires go?

You're Free to be Me

And so it begins—

You turn left; I turn right

And one of us is wrong—

You should’ve turned right

Or I should’ve turned left

But not simultaneously—

That would leave us condemned.

It’s not okay to be different.

Difference is Bad—

Incompatible—

Defective—

Only same love now.

No you; no me.

No hetero Us.

Only mind games now.

I seduce you,

And mold you into Me.

Counting the Cost

Something you search for—

The Pearl of Great Price.

But how it is sore

When you’ve found that Great Pearl

—Not shining nice,

Nor yielding its ground—

It firmly stays put,

And stiffly says “No.”

Will you Die for that pearl?

Or will You simply let Go?

Peace.

Home is where the thunder rolls

—And crickets play—

To lull us back to sleep.

Home is where I toss and turn

—Till you awake—

Inviting me to rise.

Home is where I sit by you

—You hold my hand—

And my mug affirms our prayers.

It Comes from Within

            I wake with a start, my stomach tightening. What is this? Am I scared? I open blurry eyes to glance at the clock. 7:30. Half-an-hour more. I close my eyes. But my heart begins to race. I follow my rapidly-clarifying thoughts. It’s last night. It’s you. I conjure you before my mind, and I ponder. Another surge of adrenaline. So it’s happening…

            But what is happening?

            I stand before you, in my mind. Paralyzed by all my fears, all my hopes, all my haunting memories, all my unmet desires—

            Beep. Beep. Beep. 8:00 alarm. You don’t dissolve from before me. I reach out and force you back into my heart—or maybe back into my knotted stomach.

            I pull myself out of bed. I know I should eat, but I’m not even hungry—

The Door Without a Knob

Hello—Goodbye—Silence.

I close the door—and stare—

Silence—Why always Silence?

The door stares back—eyeless—

I cite: your face—your eyes—your lips

—Pursed—Say something!

Is this what you need—desire from me?

Speak—and I will listen—