My Kind Of Lovin'

A far off look, 

of diminished returns

   and long held hooks. 

You want me to beg you to stay, 

  beg you to take off your coat, 

beg while I’m down on my knees- 

      a begging that’s bottomless.

      a begging that stings bees.  

And this is the beautiful blow of fantasy, 

the window dressing and half truths, 

of distant brutality. 

It’s a hand up the skirt, 

it’s a head in the oven, 

it’s a heart full of hurt, 

it’s my kind of lovin’. 

The Long Vacation.

The more you give yourself,

       the less you need from others/ 

A good place to be, without too much need. 

Perfect parts, the right recipe. 

As I see the distance widen, 

       I’ll be untethered,
              alone on this island.

THE ENDLESS FOREVER

 Our bodies are pockets where we store the small things, the big things, too. We tuck a love in to the deepest fold, (the endless forever), that’s the love we moved on from. That’s the one that leaves rust. The love with a deep film, a residue, something the color of copper. You feel it in the back of your throat. A dirty penny on your tongue. 

We are adaptable creatures. We can assimilate into loss, out of it, too. But we have those deep pockets. We are spiritual, sensual beings having a material, ordinary experience. And here we are, my love, all waiting in line for the endless forever. 

That’s our kind of love. The exquisite combustion of a short romance and a long memory.  Because our pockets are infinite; longer than any arms can reach, longer than any body could swim back to, longer than this life and the past ones, too.

We had our time, the bitter taste of brevity. The sour slap of eternity- is that space between. Like the blindness of a blackout, like the shock of first light; we feel the separateness, alone but together, and that’s our love- the endless forever. 

LOOKING FORWARD TO IT (Loving Yourself)

With hands tied behind your back, you can’t close doors. You know something is inside and it could be anything. I dream of meeting you there. Your soft skin would turn into sunshine. There is no unnecessary items. There is no sagging weight. There is no heavy belts of regret.
There is only you, benevolence dropping from infinitude. It covers you like the way candlelight softens a bad situation, or a long day.
Honey, you are there; You live in the heart that is the house of my future.
I’ll find you there, one foot in front of the other.
I will recognize you, as the person you grew into.
We are no longer young. We are no longer all knees and abrasions. We are no longer long drives with no destination. We are precision and high cheekbones. We are class that has edges with grit, a little like the French. We have grown into these high hopes; We touch their ceilings. We have grown, the way that the spirit is endless, the way she has no doors, the way she is the door. We have grown. 

We will lay ourselves down. We will tuck ourselves in. We will thank ourselves with our own eyes. And we will wrap our own loving arms around our own loving bodies.