Naked Coffee

Escape in to this gray day
with smooth skin and coffee,
white ceramic cup with eloquent
hook handle on matching
saucer plate. Steady it in
your lap, your center, & feel
its radiant warmth. Soothe
perturbed bristles and bumps
of nakedness.      Defy
secrets of early morning
shadows and what took place
last night. Breathe out brazen
in to today armored by white
hot ceramic & dark liquid mystery
before you even put on clothes.

8.3.14

Bruises and Goosebumps

We nourish each other by simple
touches over safe intimate precise
locations. The crease of a hip
is the folding spine of a pop-up book
the curve of a shoulder as a
pillow propped on the couch long
enough to fit the both of us, a hand
tucked into the back right pocket
a reassurance of proclivity.

     Touch becomes
dependence the type to feed from to
create or sustain life it begins
from first contact, present
for every revolving intimacy
and roulette of meaning. It's all
connectivity what keeps us alove
for worse or better.

At points like grinding gears
   touch needs lubrication: beads
   of sweat, strands of viscous honey
   streaks of baby oil. Stubble
   can be sandpaper. Calloused fingers
   and jagged finger or toenails
   create puncture wounds on
   existing imperfections that
   creams or lotions
   never seem to remove. Even
   at such a price we crave it
   a physical connection to another
   regardless of implication.

7.10.14

Act of Words

What is there to write
when words won't come
to a head, and all the coaxing
      won't conjure them up
      when it takes too long
      & we both grow tired?
Just the same they can come too easy
sloppy & unexpected.
Words can shoot out or
drip down & what they
say can rub away, wipe off.
Then, what is the act of writing
remains; the performance more
than the result.

4.25.14