beauty, life, love, poetry, women

Home is a person

I won’t miss the quiet

Squalor

But my friends are with me

Discarded the things

Which didn’t give me joy

Always travelled light

But it is a great leap forward

But I’m not so much landing

As ascending

She makes me want to be better

In a way that

Resists the weak parts

And I’ve grown stronger

If a bit slower

But look

I’m heading up

Somewhere else

But still

Home

Is a person

After all

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beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

In some small way

Quiet inside

come to you

Breathe you in

Nose against the nape 

Of your neck

Hands wandering around

Gruff chuckles

Giggles joining

Nothing I would call force

But a playful wrestle

Mark you in some small way

Make sure you know

Who you belong to

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beauty, love, men, poetry, women

Vicious Angels

We are atoms

In collision

Collusion

Through it all

I feel you

As I go about my purpose

Through pain and hunger

Late into the night

Even as disaster looms

Like vicious angels

I remain

Endure

And in this

You surrender

Gentle animal

Kind to everyone

Implicit strength

Leaner now

But still

Tuned into

The symphony of you

I hear it

Can pluck it from silence

No matter how hard

You may try

Tear down

Or build

When it comes to you

All the same

Isn’t it?

Now shut up and come here

I want you to feel me

With a force I’m not sure

Wouldn’t leave marks

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beauty, love, lust, men, poetry, sex, women

the smoke of loving battle

The languid flames

Lick at my insides

Appetites speaking

With my voice

Wielding the urge

To feed and purge

peaks of ferocious arousal

I would ravish you

Leave bruises tattooed

On your skin

The flush and dew of

A knot unties

An architecture of goodwill

Anatomy and limbs arranged

Damp intimacies

soft laughter at the cartoon

This divine rage makes

Of

Me

Restored to connect

Calm and sated

Kiss me again

Taste the smoke of loving

battle on your lips

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beauty, love, masculinity, poetry

Winter sun

Saying less

Each word

Wears armour

And quiet on the inside

Like a post-coital evening

The cold bites

But doesn’t break the skin

No matter how hard

It sinks its teeth into me

What time is left

Never wasted

Enjoying the moment

As it arrives

As it passes

Flint walls frame

A hard, bright

Winter sun

I burn with it

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beauty, love, poetry, women

woman in black

my woman in black

decanting denture tablets

into tea stained cups

Telling me the things

Which make her sad

Stains

Spilled sugar

All the things

But I like it

Because everything with her

Is a test or a celebration

I’m a more private man

Because the light of her

Burns away the corrupted need

For attention

And I bask in her light

Even when she’s dressed

In shadows

Yet I remain umoved

Shifted only by will

So I shall sit

Watch her

A little longer

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beauty, love, poetry, women

Truths

I’m spending time

Living over writing it

Although the words fall

Like snowflakes

soft against my face

Unshed tears 

Unshed years

Yet this freedom

Borne under the burden

Of goodness

No longer concerned with confidence

In my deceptions

Only truth

If my silence wounds

Know me when I say the truth

Is so much more

Than any lie I tell

Honesty made me new skin

And such is its appeal

Feeling ancient and new born

In the same instance

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