six - Clear Skies
the sky is clear.
Problem is, I cant see from under the surface.
Nor can I see over heels
seven - Moon & Ocean
fingers dance to Ocean's gentle wind
toes nestle between ridges of sand
as for heart, well,
my heart lost to the waves themselves.
as i breathe,
the longing and hope and despair
comes and goes.
in this manner i lay here for hours,
quiet and sinking.
Ocean herself pushes and pulls
me, herself, my drenched body.
I watch Moon fall as i fall with her.
feels different — perhaps a star has collapsed
i feel a churning, round and around
a nebula to another is forming
the momentum has picked up now
the love is overflowing now
i need to let it out
wash you in kisses, twiceover
let your body relax, scream, shake
but instead i am here,
alone, on this beach.
a star in your constellation,
a night out with Moon and Ocean.
eight - Does Desire Make Love to Passion or Chaos
you prefer pencil, you always have.
gradient light is spilled liquid
light of no gender, neither do we.
line by line you direct chaos to your liking.
for you, you decide. you decide
the fate of when graphite ends.
how deep shadows are, the wind you hold
along small arch of your back.
the peace of pen, for me,
is the weight body carries.
we shoulder consequences of ink.
i create gradient in black and white
no grey, no color, no minute sands.
just touch or not touch, it’s quite simple really,
it’s a choice we made.
and we chose us.
nine - Ichor on Paper
this poem is not about you.i fell for the idea of you, after all;
or rather, ideas of you, from you.
for your mind bleeds ichor
dipped in River Black for contrast.
your body merely an easel
for your hand, a vessel
for your graphite, shadow
upon shadow to your liking.
A stunning portrait:
“You More Than You.”
20 x 23.
Ichor on Paper.
ten - Steady Steady
perhaps i just need a touch on the shoulder to steady myself.
perhaps i just need a night where
we forget all else and we're
just us,
just now.
eleven - A Second Floor Cafe
when we left that cafewe left ourselves behind
untamed wind! beckoning to none.
it was our world, we were the artists
the world was colored and shaded to our liking
nothing could ground us.
until we left that cafe
on the second floor
on that quiet street