Back To Back

“You may not remember the time you let me go first.
Or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn’t that far to go.
Or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up.
You may not remember any of those, but I do and this is what I have to say to you:

Today, no matter what it takes,
we ride home together.”
― Brian Andreas, Traveling Light: Stories & Drawings for a Quiet Mind

 

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Back to back that’s how we started,

fighting the whole world, we never parted.

Then came new life, shafts in the quiver.

We fired them off, our crops never withered.

Along came the wolf, death he swore.

He limped and lied to get through the door.

He consumed you with his intellectual abandon,

my back now unguarded, my heart saddened.

I tried for months to retake the hallowed ground,

but you were too far gone, never to be found.

Lost and spinning, exposing my nakedness,

I struggled grimacing, my life hard pressed

Then I saw her, evil disguised as purity.

Face of an angel, a heart that wasn’t free.

I came to her with my intentions pure,

she cast one glance, it was over for sure

All the passion I wished you to use,

now you found it, she was your muse

I drove on, looking at you secretly,

asking me to stay, your nakedness I see

To late, like fire spreading on water,

she flowed freely, around all your barter

Driving on into my own peril,

she would slay me with just one arrow

Entranced by her wiles, I followed her to hell,

but my back not guarded, I swiftly fell.

Barely I survived, held under the water of pain,

my lungs bursting to breath love again

Fire scorched and burned through all my nerves,

it never went out, smoldering in the curves

Struggling to gain ground, to get back to back again,

Back to back one day, I long for my friend.

Also published in Broowaha

08072010

 

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Sentient –

“Touch comes before sight, before speech. It is the first language and the last, and it always tells the truth.”

― Margaret Atwood, Der blinde Mörder 

Her name swirled in my mouth like hot chocolate on a winter’s day. If I took it too quick, it would burn in the fury of being rushed, so I breathed her in, slow and gentle, with little sips of desire and awe. She easily warmed my deepest parts, and very slowly, my chill changed to a spreading glow of warmth. The pins and needles of my deep freeze made her work an exhilarating passionate dance. Her touch needed no words as my mind filled with her tactile conversation and my replies, only soft tremors of appreciation. Closing my eyes, I lifted my head to the clear midnight sky, the stars seemed to stall their charge toward dawn to catch a glimpse of Sentient’s captive. My ears caught a hint of her hidden nakedness as I followed the breeze swirling its way through the tall pines then a tickle ran up my neck when she spun around to see me. Playing with me, the cool of the air countered the warmth of my body in a gentle tug of war, like puppies playing with a toy, first a gentle nudge, a pull, then a rougher jerk that foretold of things to come. She had all of me, a pleasure now, but soon, a curse for there are times when a man is better off to never feel again. 

…there are times when a man is better off to never feel again…

First published in Opinionsofeye.com

Makeup

“She knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.” 

― Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke & Bone 

 

Who can discover the secrets that lurk

 behind the smiles and hugs

 the ends and beginnings

 of long crumpled dreams

 desperately pressed out

The doors hide unpleasant things

that we wish weren’t us

which we know are

and can never change

the blood on the floor

All the houses made of crystal pain

revealing the nakedness

of pretty things
now left ugly by
the makeup of reality