Wednesday 21 January 2015

~ Noshed! ~




~ Noshed! ~
But I don’t remember,
No, not yet,
If it’s the twilight of your voice,
Or those glassy midnight eyes,
Your lips, dancing melodious,
Or should I say — my gaze aslant —
Caressing tongue, you flip and toss,
Betwixt those clever teeth,
Inside your summer mouth,
Warmly stroking between smiles,
Dainty, pretty a-l-p-h-a-b-e-t-s …
O’ you season of my heart,
So sumptuously exotic you are,
When you eat your w-o-r-d-s,
Making them deliciously half,
For I love the way you talk …
Wherefore, you should see, to grasp,
That I’m still striving to remember so hard …
Mon Amour … would you talk again? 
Whilst feeding my famished, hedonistic stare …
For I love when you talk, albeit unexplained!

Tuesday 20 January 2015

~ Disposed me! ~



~ Disposed me! ~
Soaking,
In the sticky rain of longing,
Of unkind, wanton love,
That with prolonged flank,
And rusted flagging walls,
Where my ‘will’ sits waiting,
Dangling her feet, subconsciously,
Around those eerie edges,
Not knowing,
Sore-in-the-eye-of-the-belly junk,
I have become …
How long would the wall sustain?
And refrain from,
Splitting into multi-faceted pieces,
Nettling rubble of it,
Splattering on the swampy land,
More zigzag, little oblong, my graveling presence …
Soft and dangerous … may be, it is!
No long from now!
Sigh! No more long from now,
I’ll be eaten up by the necessity of obsoleteness,
To be gone! To be gone! To be such gone!
But where? Will I ever know?


Sunday 11 January 2015

~ You! ~


~ You! ~
I go circling the hem,
With you, in between,
The chaise of my legs,
Picking up on the beats of your feet …
You float gracefully, away, away from me …
This distance,
Between us,
A few steps,
Lying head-long on the land that can’t be walked,
But lick surreptitiously,
With burnishing warmth,
Of the lips, untouched, untouchable, succinct, sacred,
Still ‘the touch’ we could never had, fade, easily fade?
Look O’ Ether-precious, my fingers are on-fire,
From the embers of kiss-waltz, we swirled in last night,
In my dreams, so numb …
Fresh fantasy, delicious flakes falling sumptuously,
Of you,
And I devour you, sprawled on my beaded rug of orange-cloud …
Blinking eyes … Hazy smiles ……
This tethering trussed up silence, 
Gnawing at my longings, can it be?
When a few words,
Always so feral would stay afloat … if left,
Sore and raw,
Perfectly unsaid!