Yearning

blog_lovers

Yearning

stranger things exist
than my hands
reaching for your face
as if touching you
might excite some connection inside
and turn your head
to see
me

yearning..
what a funny word
for this funny feeling
in my chest
when my eyes rest on you…
it seems I could have found
a more macho word
I could parade around with

you,
with that long distance gaze
warm hands
(and sweet thighs…)
and me,
with my words scattered
all over the floor
trying to sweep up the ones
that might sweep you
away…

love or fear..
these are the only choices
to base our reasoning on
and at this moment…
I’m going with love.

 

Down

hourglass

Down

breaking it down
is always easier…
even gravity loves to lend a hand

your words,
mine…
mixed and mixed up
never walk the straight line

what you don’t say,
flashes across your face
in neon
neon
neon…
branding the flesh of my heart

failure can be as breathtaking
as triumph
and lasts much longer

now, your heart lives elsewhere
though your body shares my bed
like two ice cubes
melting ,
sliding,
in different directions
never to be whole
again…