written in '02
feeding from a hand who just yesterday
purged me of doubt, convinced me of settling.
settlers seeding stays solid, but it's
the crow who finds his way.
call me wingless, say i'm not an angel
tell me i'm human. i'll only do what i do.
in doing, i opt to do what just yesterday
i found foolish. foolishly, accepting the fall.
it exists in the moment your teeth
take hold of your bottom lip..
and i,
for one,
seemingly/knowingly/wholeheartedly accept this.
acceptance derived from some outward display
some outburst of emotion...no...
...just the biting of her lip.
oh, i'd sip her skin if it was meant for such a thing.
the dire needs that i'm now a product of.
the flesh, the caramel that pours out over it...
rising breasts with each rising breath
my eyes rest when rising's left
no chain...no leash...nothing to restrain..
a utopian ecstacy begging for more endorphins..
so that i might be able to actually feel
the excitement that my body isn't programmed for..
releasing my serotonin romance into a garden of glee.
and there my unsuitor replies,
"glitter resides in the shimmering tides of our love."
but it's not glitter i seek, it's the pulling...
the yanking...the tugging...the effortless biting..
of her lip...
my thoughts seldom remove me from my person
but here, no, there, i am removed.
without you i am a man, late for his job....
with you i am a westward wind....wistfully wisping away...