Through foggy, disjointed
Your hand touched mine
And I felt the heat.
I wanted to capture a moment of our time together,
Maybe a faint chuckle of yours,
Or a single teardrop that traced your cheek when
You said you must go home now
And I must seek a new adventure,
Is this the dream
or simply a phase?
From what I can see,
we have limited days.
He closes his eyes
wanting her words
to be true, yet he knew
she was only
being true to herself
The day was sad and wearisome,
It chilled me to my core,
I’d known that something would go wrong,
Though I could not be sure.
I’d felt so tired and lonely, still,
My heart had ached for him,
Beneath the Christmas trim.
Dedicated to: Aseel Kawash
Have I ever mentioned
The hot chocolate you invented?
Thick and a little sugary
Poured into the wrong cups
By the scatter of our weekly magazines
Have I ever told you
I’ve forgotten the orange-redness
Of my hair when I was younger?
I wish I’d chosen dye more wisely
Yet your drawings of me
Of the smile I attempted horribly
And the fiery, red curls
Made me feel less foolish
I always believed time would cease
At the blissful age of sixteen
I saunter through a dreamland fantasy
in steamy waters of ecstacy
my heartbeat quickens
my pulse races
In an amber moon your face I see
A sudden rush of pleasure enchants me
as a soft night breeze gently flows
palm trees sway
a free spirit plays
In a midnight dream you call to me
You twirl me through the loop-de-loops
So I can’t catch my breath
And when you freeze us upside down
I’m falling to my death
I never know what’s happening
Until we’re at the end
But when you say it’s over I find
I want to go again
We are lost in the field,
the tall flowers tickling my body
as I make my way down to the stream.
My dress flowing with the wind,
made from a curtain of silk
that I bought on my trip to the city.
Tonight the crisp air pierced me into excitement,
making it apparent that when I think of you
my body obeys.
As surely as the wind will blow,
Each day will start anew,
As surely as the world will turn,
My thoughts will be of you.
How your eyes light up with laughter,
Warms deep within my soul,
We sat in the warm beach sand
Basking in the sun
I sat between your legs
My back pressed against your chest
Your fingers caressed my leg lovingly
And you spoke softly in my ear
I turn to look you in the eyes
As you whisper adoringly, words of love
Our eyes meet in heady passion
And your hand goes to my neck
Bringing me in for a breathtaking kiss
That leaves my toes curling in the sand
We end the kiss with a small laugh
And you smile, dimples gracing your cheeks
I run my hand through your hair
Loving the way you lean into my touch
The summer days were long.
The splendor of the blue skies and the bright sun.
Beckon us to the sea.
The heat of hot days.
Thaw our cold hearts.
The beauty of Monterey coastline.
Purify the sadness and losses of living.
I remember you.
Waiting for me on the sand.
You called me the laughing Poet.
A fugitive and faithful friend.
You were my sanctuary and imperfect Angel.
Your blue eyes would watch the waves dance on the shore for hours.
Allowing the Pacific Ocean to erode layers of disappointment away.
For the night I fall asleep and awake with you on my mind
For the remnants of our first kiss on my lips
For the seconds minutes and hours
I hold you in my arms
For the moment, we intently look into each others’ eyes
Knowing it is the end of you and I
And fleur Digitalis,
with petal sweet and rare,
did line the walk
with stately stalk
our pathway to prepare.
For in that flowered spring,
I first did know my heart,
then did my soul
on seeing you
I would breathe
if I could but
that would mean
letting you go.
So I hold a
gala for you
in the echoes
of my mouth.
As you dance
across my palate
I begin to savor
the sweetness of you,
Forgive me when lightning plays on the keys of your sorrow
and there is no time for everything you say
to be laid here at my feet.
Still, know that I am here when your inner light
of wisdom catches dust on the frame of your heartbeat
and I will listen through your tears.
On those days when life feels like a flying bird,
do not feel sorry for reaching out
to enlightenment as your lover, please know,
that I understand your need.
There are miles of bedlam that I would love to turn into flowers
on those nights when your sea tumbles restlessly
and those dragons of madness make you burn
As the water dripped from your muscles the heat became more intense.
Passions were burning like the pits of fire on a cold winters night.
Glances were exchanged with a quick fluttering of the eyes.