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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
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
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
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
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
Ha, thought
This was
Going to be
A political poem?
Those things age
Like salmon
Smell as bad, too.
No
And having referred to it
There’s a degree of self performance
Impostor syndrome
(Most days, I think I’m pretty good. Competent,
Like a hat to hide a bald spot
When the smart move is to shave your head)
So here it is:
It’s going to be ok.
There is always a way
There is always hope
I breathe in different colours
But it still bears the flavour
Of your kindnesses
Forgive the relative brevity
I have worlds to save
People chuckle
But, come closer
I have a message
Just for you:
If you read it,
Walk to the window,
Press your palm to the glass
And tap your ring finger twice
Just breathe
I’ve got you.
