Lovers and First Lights

just on the Western side
of Morning, she stirred
in some hushed solitude.

the long, cold tentacles
of Night tickled my
face as they slid

back into the unreachable
depths of Yesterday.

she moved unaware until
the warmth of her frame
pressed softly against

mine. and i watched
as tender Autumn’s Dawn brushed
the tousled bangs of darkness

from her face. she slept
there for what felt like
a moment of lifetimes as i let the
furor of Daybreak sweep over us.

what is love beyond beholding
the face of your Lover in the
first-light twinkles of Today?

A Bacchus Night

as our whiskey gleamed
less and less
you aroused from within
your secret maenad.

with my heart in your
hands and my loins
in your glass, you
drank me quite flaccid.

The Liar

I must confess
There’re no antiques
‘Tis true

I’d only wished
A moment alone
With you

My Ripe Concubine (Let Us Not Fret)

simmer down now,
my ripe concubine.
let us not fret
this dayspring sunshine.

your bare skin casts
shadows on my soul.
throughout midnight’s
recalcitrant toll.

birds a-singin’ -
Wormwood’s had his fill,
lay with me quick
ensconced from his chill.

beneath your breasts
i’ll bury my eyes.
drink the perfume
to quiet his lies.

your honey; sweet
and succulent drips
from your flower’s
head, to my whet lips.

forbid not Morn’
from casting her spell.
this Love has roused
his carriage to Hell.

Mosshead Creek and Spring’s Bee King

She stood erect, full with
Devil-may-care defiance near the
Long edge of the old, weathered
Wooden dock – its legs licked raw by
The relentless brackish, black waters
Of Mosshead Creek.

Her delicate frame caressed by the
Amber-love contours of a slowly setting
Sun.

He approached in timid splendor while
Each warped dock board counted by
Twos ‘neath his jaunty stride.

She glanced but twice at him, exquisite
Wings unfurled at each step. She stole
His heart behind perfectly bred and
Virginally curved eyelashes; which set
The sway to lust when on display.

She, a flower set against the dim magic
Of the Brunswick twilight. Her heart
Spread open in prelude to lower limbs.
Her tender pink – like oceans drawn to
Osiris’ bosom – yearned to effloresce
With wisps of color, for him,
Spring’s dilatory Bee King.

Compelled

It’s easy to love
And easier to hate
With a moon above
Thy peace will abate.

And return in force
At the break of day
With Love’s plumb course
Compelled to obey.

There’s A Poison In My Brain

there’s a poison in my brain
that’s leaking from my soul.
droplets tooled with vicious teeth
but listen; truth be told,

i like the way their chewing sounds
when Night applies his shroud.
they’re killing me with every bite
where death’n guilt ain’t allowed.

Autumn Uncertainty

in a breath the
air has gone from
ghastly to crystalline,
pure and holy.
textured like a shallow
trickle of water skating
across the sleek skin
of a well-weathered
stone. rounded by
the tickling fingers
of persistence.

i take it in and muse
at the uncertainty of
Autumn’s beauty. quick
and restless; fluid shapes
and impending loneliness
erupt at once in an
orgasm of color and
melancholy.