I could understand you just, your habit to speak into your collar ashamed of those eye teeth never dropped down to tear into the flesh of ripe plums or to ring out against the rim of a glass
not a good start but you smelled fecund and your scent lingering in my office sent me deep into a dictionary to find the word for you your supreme relaxation molten in my guest chair telling me half heard things about your childhood and making muted guesses at mine
you can blame the alcohol or your husband’s out of town schedule suffice it best to blame me my serial dreams about your smooth brown skin miles of it a road from ankle to thigh that never ended and I never stopped walking
we share the beauty of failure all those social nets traps conventions institutions they missed us and fell upon each other with smoldering weakness your hesitant tongue my jagged nail beneath your breast it’s criminal to never tell the tale to each other laughing and thrilled to have had each other once and not need to again
a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
Like tussoh, I collect snow after the blizzard, churning the quartz, O December. Time to hang my boots and listen the call to quarters. Windows would kill me. I had my horrors I had my wine. The moon was still
Melancholic – she be described He says, turn the curve my child Dances she, feet on thorn Refashion thy scorn Darkness, she, into the wild Beloved, behold – nature beguiled Cries she – eyes dry Withhold, let me sigh Not
As the rain drops beat against the transparent glass of my encompassment yet evoking such peace, how I also yearn for a piece. My mind rumbles in all this mumble, a familiar mania, an ambiguous source of my insomnia. How