We groped in the cool of winter,
your feverish hands
together we wanted always
that reason to forget
just where we began,
never ask the question,
just go with our lust,
our desire to turn on,
the steam on the windows
I created, we did that
we hid behind the frost,
no handprint for effect,
simply the passion
of our own undoing,
that truly is it today,
that felt so very, very
when it was over.
then right here
a little bit more
questions will be asked
focus on the present please
is plenty of time for that
when it is all said and done
off my shoulders, yes!
we imagine any of this truly
each other, a quiet recognition
circumstances can always change
explodes with a vengeance in the public eye.
that though they treat this
a simple solution to complexity
will always have this moment today.
photo found on pinterest
there is no music to help mask the moment,
only silence to force reflection.
a facade, perhaps has run its course,
while he awaits his reckoning.
he has found a shelter to play within
a seeming island of delight.
his mind preoccupied, fears compulsive,
suddenly the table is turned,
where he once strolled with confidence
his trepidation is a moral code.
he will acknowledge needs he feels his,
yet knows we all have these.
It is that exclusivity part, reality
that scares his psyche.
he certainly claims there is no desire
to hurt anyone, yet, he’s blind.
He seeks refuge while exploring souls
those of spirited humanity.
while the existence of a real time world
tenders nearby he’s evocative.
his desires once began in earnest
now define a true essence.
caught in the cycle of needs and spark
how easily forgotten the truth
though his ideals move toward pleasure’s
frivolity, he is still, a married man.
when once the objectivity tastes delicious,
his tainted tongue tears
like the water flowing toward the sea
his mind drifts noisily.
wound inside the eyes of the married man
spiritual bliss has waned.
he can only apologize, lamentations
seem trivial in his truth.
as his august descends upon his mind,
he wills forgiveness in Her eyes.
I did a double take,
while she relaxed in the waves,
a quick look, assessing followers
without giving away the moment
lips, smile, a certain nod,
held high but not for me,
while you stole away,
I glanced to see her safe
out of harm’s way,
while we wandered
like two strangers pass
across each other’s lives.
I wondered when we might
if ever on such a day,
would we know each other
outside the shadows …
I looked at her, she seemed ok,
the day’s activities
remain the same;
We’d walk this way again,
nostalgic, you and me,
without any need to stay.
* photo found on pinterest
The cool atmosphere of that morning,
the immediacy of you.
I gave you a short look,
before you could see me,
yet certainly I was drawn,
white shorts running lines along
sweet svelte legs,
sinewy symbols of sexuality.
I watched you walk across the room,
first day suggestive stares,
quiet in my own space,
I knew well I would glance more,
eventually wanting to share a volley
of furtive eye candies whilst the room,
began to study the art of the text,
our creative nuance seemed to take hold.
I remain fond,
reflective in the peace of my own mind,
Yes, there are days when I do,
I know now you have love,
that special miracle of life,
when confusion created melody,
once before now harmony suggests
I remember you once handed me your key,
I held it in my hands,
still today I am curious,
who did eventually empty the contents,
were they able to distinguish
that life was the one we carried
in our hearts three summers,
designed around surreal cold landscapes,
the heat of desire,
warming our imagination.
I wonder today, about the beauty of you,
only to tell you I wish to offer a key
that may enhance your elegance,
always and forever.
Stroll outside into surrounds of spring
feel moments of desire,
spontaneity, that brush of
exhilaration, respond to love,
where you are,
while we continue,
when least we anticipate,
that’s when our lives interact,
apart from one another,
yet, we might, yet, hope we …
imagine that visual catharsis.
How often do our lives interact
when worlds across waters,
we recognize we have similar,
Or might these be wants,
I often confuse the two,
I don’t know about you,
as I stand here imagining,
I do want to believe
this feeling inside,
this melting, searing, flame
cresting with times’ nostalgia,
when eyes did define definitive –
we do know love,
we can recall and bring to mind,
a different time,
with effort a responsive return,
a parallel universe,
when together we do share,
such conscious energy.
What we make of our lives,
how we decide to go forward,
how a day, a cloud in the sky,
a thunderstorm at dawn,
feeds our senses with a similar plan …
If I lay quiet in real garments to visualize you,
might your world in my dreams, remain in view.
Lately I have questioned my affliction,
my constant need,
lately, while watching you walk past me,
I wonder about how simple it might be,
for you to walk over and lay your hands
upon me as if you desired me …
Instead I am out here trying to recreate you,
every step, every move, each time a set of eyes,
reminds me there is passion welled inside,
might be able to tap in and surround my mind,
with the lovely swirl of gasps, panting and flailing
limbs all designed around reaching a certain, physical
nirvana that feels just wonderful, yes, just …
I am that guy that wants you to want me,
quite simple really, I’ll show you.
Walk over and move my hands to the side,
smile and look me in the eyes,
take your fingertips and unzip me,
watch my eyes get wider and feel my rise,
slide your hands upon my skin, and let me
grow in your palm while you stroke me,
by then I would imagine, as I do,
every day, by then I would imagine,
my tongue will have found your lips,
and the passion of my kiss will
very simply without any curious turns,
the addict inside of me,
the one that dreams of this moment,
while you hold me in your hands,
my eyes, my body, my skin alive,
will thank you …
I’ll come home now.