Triptych.
Bright hair,
Red lipstick.
Fall gently through my fingers.

Maybe the third time really is the charm.

The Science of Sex

Love and sex.

Let me talk about the Heisenberg uncertainty principle for a moment.

Heh, not.

Love and sex.

Sure, you can separate the two. Love without sex is platonic – sex without love is demonic, and if you’re really desperate you’ll end up histrionic. Heh.

Love and sex.

They belong with each other. They resonate on the same frequency. Sure you can pull them apart, like turning water into hydrogen and oxygen. Just don’t light a match in blind passion, because if you do...

The whole thing will blow up in your face.

Message in a Cyberbottle

The words from the future,
Of your long-dead wife,
Harvest the sheaves,
Of the heart:
A hallucinatory scythe.

True, the pain is imaginary,
But my mind is all I have,
So oft I am more wary,
Than necessary.

So:

Here lies the love,
That I hoped to posses,
When in fact it disguised,
The love to undress.

The bruises don't heal,
When consoled by a friend,
The abuse will repel,
Lest a friendship end.

And although my mother,
And sisters,
And brothers,
Were prone to love others,

I love only myself,
And my self is my cover.

Raw Imagery

Dervishes whirl devilishly through the sands
Of my salivation.

I can't forget the evening
Stars so bright they shine through
My eyelids.

Rolling through the snow
And rustling in the brush
Hearts are hushed.

Here we are, suspended together
Literally
I hold your body in mine, protecting you
Loving you
There is no first move, there is no advance
We move as one
I kiss you, gently
I move across your face with mine
Gently
Oh, so gently
My face moves across yours
I'm not even thinking
Simply doing
Loving
Gently
We stop, but there is no screeching halt
Our love continues
Even as we drop
Maneuver
To the ground
I can't let go of you
I can't
I've always been capable,
Always able,
Until now
I am at the mercy of my own love for you
And love is unmerciful
Still I hold you, not by the hand like some mere facade of love
But around the waist
Like conjoined twins,
Like the cores of two peaches
Unlikely, but oh
So
True