Monday, April 20, 2009

touching stars

in the woods,
a naked body floats in the river
a boy’s eyes touching stars
fragrances of summer stroke the flesh
pale skin glowing blue in the night
cool black water rushing passed
rushing the body along the river
rushing to posses what it already owns

alone with the night
alone in the night
alone with all the things in the darkness

the moon races with the body
tree limbs cast their speeding shadows
against floating skin
against the fullness of the moon

I died when I was a boy
and woke up a man
with a homesick core
floating there like a thing before you
for I love you most...
Darkness...
that is illusion
the love, the hurt, is an illusion imbued

Darkness, where all things come from
rivers, mountains, trees.
where all things come from
moon, sun ,stars.
where it all comes from
our blood, our sweat, our tears.

the thing that is you is also me
from the darkness we are
I am the river
I swallow the black water imbued
for we are one...I swallow
and plunge the body into the depths
and in the womblike depths
in the dark depths
the core breaths

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

strangler in the mist

I caress your scent in the middle of the night
cars and loud boys below my window pass by on Broadway
dust and grime of dirty New York City slowly invade my room
in the darkness like a phantom in fog

my fingertips feel the skin of your back
my fingers the curve of your spine
I can smell you, a soft remainder
soft to my lips is the skin of your neck
soft is your tongue to my tongue,
you're inhaled in your absence
hard up in a cot that I've made for my bed where
crooked springs are my constant companions

I breath mostly in
I touch myself, as I touched you
your pink stiff soft flesh
warm in my hand a lifetime ago
in the soft pink light
in my only room
in the world
my turtle home
 
lit up by flashing headlights streetlights and sirens
is my dark room...wait,
Is that a breath, a sigh, perhaps a moan a whimper
caught in between the sounds of slick tires and choking motors
that come like a crash of waves?

specter of my sentiment...you ghost of my haunt
you strangler of breath.
I want to keep it easy,
getting it to keep,
now... that's not so easy

it is the absence of your smell that hovers most...
strangler you choke me out of sleep
and in the wake I know that
I am for myself what you wont be for me.