Epidermal Excavation

Cliffs of physiognamy roved dilligent;
Estuaries dove and drown.
Phalangial quarry, labial encore:
Planes mined, zephyral…

A perfume like hers…

Follow my lead, she whispered
from lips crimson red
as she let loose her hair
cascading waterfalls
the smell of fresh rain…

You and I (what it feels like to see you sleep)

(A poem.)

Her Ecstasy of Spark

If it be her wish
I shall fall deeply on her floor

Still got it

Some people say
‘We’ll always have Paris’ — 
or London, or Rome
(or Vegas, I guess, but 
what goes on there 
we dare not disclose) —

Exaltation

Take my soul
I no longer need it
tuck into your pocket
a locket
let it stay, beat, write
for you

You and I (what it feels like to touch you)

(A poem.)

Idiom

Sing me to sleep:
While you hang the moon;
A paragon refashioned.
Haunt me with music:
Shall you weave the wisp of song.
To contrive a lyric.
Play…

You and I (what it feels like to kiss you)

(A poem.)

A Commonplace Fantasy

My dreaming mind knows
What my body wants
When it is sleeping off
The electronic high of normalcy —