That Texan drawl

Want that slow sensual burn

To crawl inside your mind

Run my skin over your thoughts

Feel your needs and desires

Granting each in turn

Denying each at my whim

There is no rush

Not looking for the sharp pulse of orgasm

Burn me alive in the feel of your skin

Talk to me about telomeres as I taste your sweat

Quench my control and lead me into frenzy

 

Her sad eyes watch me

Radical revision, straight to the limits, right to the end
Begins a thought discarded
A beat without measure
Wondering where pleasure
But finding only wait
One minute to my ending
I’m always forgetting the frame of the
Phrasing
Harmony without her or me
Rewrite the ending and start it anew
No hope in despair
But in desperation a lightning storm
Darkness reveals what the light is hiding
Infinite stars and possible futures
Day only masks its forgiveness
Night gives its all and we cry out
Anguish from its gifts
Day is so easy when nothing is simply
Kiss me and tell
Numbed by slinking
Not my style to hide
Rather make it all clear
But shadows are not unknown
They once were my home
I can play this game
And not lose myself
Their disloyalty is not relevant to my honor
But obligations are another matter
I work unimpaired but you’ll never see it
Herculean so difficult
Trivial
Long periods of dull punctuated by brief frenzy
And in the end its just a paycheck and the place where I see a Kat
Inclined to write lines and stay up past bedtime
It’s really too late
An hour of sleep ain’t enough
My eyes my flit in too tired fit
But sleep and me are just friends
We don’t see each other each day
But embrace when we meet again

Enduring silence

Want to be warm and asleep next to you
I need you to desire me
Me, not my body, me
I want you to know that when I touch you it’s to affirm to myself that you are real
And when my hands and mouth
Arch your back in ecstasy
It’s because I need your joy to be happy

I live inside my head sometimes so deep that I don’t know how to inhabit my body and it makes me hesitant. Would you welcome a hand trailing up your spine? I don’t know. People want relationships to be easy and I am never easy.

Just want to turn to you and hold you close
Be unselfconscious and lose ourselves in each other
Want to satisfy your every carnal desire
And still boop your nose and call you my girl and see you blush

And instead, I’m alone in my bed
Room chilly
Snuggled under a blanket
Wanting sleeping oblivion
For want of the taste of you

Need to stop waking at midnight

You know what the worst part of beginning to fall in love is? Well, really two things. The first is how fragile it is. You are right on the edge of something and you can sense it coming and maybe you slow it down, hoping you can control it this time(I’ve never been able to). But you also know that at any moment before you begin the fall, it could all blow away like candy floss in a harsh wind.

The second is that, while you try to guard your heart to whatever extent you are able, you know you are at the mercy of another person. And you feel the echos of the past, reverberating forward. All those times it didn’t work out.

And you’re afraid.

People who haven’t been looking for a while don’t know what it is to find and love and lose, over and over again.

Or if you remember, it is through a haze. Or maybe you don’t overthink it.(I envy you that).

But, I’m afraid. Not of before or while. But of the potential for after. I’ll do whatever I can to not have an after. Though, usually, there is nothing to be done that I’m not already trying.

I try to spit in the face of my fears. To do what I fear. But this existential dread at 2AM. It’s hard to face.

Getting ready for work in the too quiet

I retreat from the world into sleep every time I feel that liar in my head telling me that I’m not worth the relationships I have. That it’s no wonder that I’m alone. This litany of, I want to say lies, but I’m in it right now and I can’t say whether or not there is some truth to it. I mean I feel the weight of it. How could the people I lean on not feel that weight? And they have their own worries too. I hate adding to them. So I usually sleep and I feel better after doing so. But today I can’t do that. I have been up since midnight and I need to get ready for work. And I’ll probably be fine once I’m there and the armor goes up but it doesn’t go away and sometimes it breaks free. In these moments before I get ready, I think that I need a vacation but that’s just time alone in my head and that’s what I have now. Except, I’d get to sleep and yearn for even the limited connection that coworkers bring.

I guess most days I try to do a better job of being the man Morgan needed than I did when she was alive. If I was who I am now, she’d be by my side. And other days I think she was the only person who wanted me and look how I fucked that up. And I know it’s bullshit and that I did what I could but it doesn’t feel that way.

I think about how, if I’m this better person, why do my relationships never make it past that heady rush of the beginning months? Why do I feel the same and why do they not want me?

I feel like I’m flailing about just trying to move forward and I worry that I sometimes feel like an open wound. I hear my friends telling me that they want me around.

I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Just that I’m tired and want to sleep and I’m tired of finding people and losing people. Is the fault in the choice or the execution? I try to be less “I love you” now. Because I say it too soon?

Maybe they think it’s desperation or a projection of need? But my pain is knives turned inward. My perception and standards remain intact. I know how I feel. It’s just experience tells me that that doesn’t matter. No matter how much you love someone, they leave you. Better they know now, before it’s too late.

Nightmares are also dreams, part 6: Tara

The heat void left by Pel getting up rouses me from my barely remembered dream of laying next to a fire. I snuggle into his spot. Still warm from him and close to Sara. I feel the soft muscle of Sara’s arm pull me to her, sliding me across silk to nestle close enough to feel her warm breathing tickle my still closed eyelids. I feel her feather touch. Soft fingers spread like a fan, drawing circles around my breast. My eyes open, awake now, and find the deep green of shaded forest staring into mine. I’ve seen this look before, her eyes flashing so deeply with desire they are practically black.

I lean in and devour her soft lips with mine, head tilted to the left. Pressure building to take more of her into my mouth. Tongue sliding over tongue, soft and fierce, fighting for more and more until I feel her hand squeezing and pulling my tit. I break awake, gasping for air. Gobbling breath. Her hand pulses like a heartbeat. I find myself on my back gasping, not sure how I changed positions.

Her nails graze against me sending shivers down spine and her mouth closes over my throat. Lightly biting down, claiming me as hers, her kill. I shudder needing more but she moves so slowly. Lips press their need against my chest and I gasp in surprise when her teeth close over my nipple right as her hand flicks my clit.

I fade out, almost to float, but her fingers plunging inside me shakes me loose. I panic, starting to struggle against her and my eyes fly open.

From the doorway, Pel is watching us. He’s holding two mugs in his hands, not drinking from either. He seems content to watch us forever.

I relax shocked back to reality. My girlfriend and my Sir. I’m safe and that thought gets blasted out of my head. Sara is biting and nibbling and her hand pulses inside me fingers splayed and caressing inside finding spots I never knew were there.

I fall into sensation, eyes closed against any distraction. Each time I feel teeth I whimper as a thumb drags slowly against my clit.

My lungs expand and contract, rough breathe spilling into the air, my body starts shuddering, and then soft waves of gold hammer through and out of me, again and again riding the edge of orgasm.

It’s too much and I can’t think. Lost in the float…

Some minutes later I hear water turning off, when did that happen? Sara is drinking from a cup and offers one to me.

I take the proffered gift and find it contains drinking chocolate. Pel made this…there is cayenne in it. Sara prefers to mix it with cream.

It is delicious but not what I want. I put the mug down on the nightstand with a metallic click.

I burrow beneath the covers and find the prize I’m looking for. The soft blonde sweetness of Sara. It smells of musk and vanilla with a hint of Pel from last night. I play the game Pel taught me. I lick a long slow A against the pussy lips of my…wife.

I’ll say yes. The last time they asked, I wasn’t ready. But yes, they are mine. I won’t give them up. But… Later. Now I need more and the soft moans of Sara whisper our rightness.

The only canvas I have

Only faint syllables flow silk across eardrums
Vibrating words of pleasure and pain
Tremulous touch
Uncertain
Yearning
Caress and imprint memories
Still voice raises
Speaking truths hands fear to impart
When only words can be said
They take the place of lips pressed lightly
And so are seen as inadequate
Hearing only definition and not the whisper
Of soon
You’ll have more than this

Why I cry, sometimes for no evident reason

There is something in me that always wants more. More time with someone I like. More conversations, more touch, more laughter. More falling in love, hopefully together. And I think I understand why now.

As a child, I was alone. Surrounded by siblings old enough or young enough to be distant but still present. I would ride my bike for hours out in the heat. Alone. I would ride down alleyways discovering petty secrets. I would ride for miles down back streets in the quiet empty of the asphalt heat ocean. I would come back home and gulp down water and read some book meant for adults, having long since out read the local library of children’s offerings. The crackle of the polyurethane dust jacket and the silent turning of pages. Days and days left alone, because I didn’t seem to need attention, and others did.

I grew up filling this vast uncharted lonely expanse with temporary friends, ideas, and intense desire for a connection. But, I was both shy and quick witted, stung by others comments I would carve out their hearts with a sharp tongue and feel flushed with guilt and triumph. And I watched as others who seemed normal to me found connections and were seemingly happy. It looked so easy for them. Like breathing.

I turned to computers and twisted even further inward. My family emphasized practicality and money. I lost myself. And by the time I surfaced, I was successful and faceless. People knowing me was dangerous so no one did. Certainly not my family. And there was no one else. Until Morgan shattered my world. And everything changed. Like waking from a coma to find the world had moved on. Briefly, through, seemingly no action I took other than saying yes at the right moment, I was whole. She filled me in ways I’m still aching from.

Because well, you can read about Morgan on your own.

And I was so numb after, I just didn’t notice. But I started waking up almost four years ago. And that intense need for connection drives me. I fall in love. It’s not attachment. I’m not a baby bird. I just see people and they are beautiful. How can I not love them? I’m learning to suppress it but love always bursts out. Connection. More. An intense need to have them see themselves how I see them. To help them.

I don’t get people who don’t know if they have ever felt love. There are people who I would shift the world for, if I could.

But I think they see that empty vastness inside me. I understand how it’s too much. No one can fill it. No single person. But you wouldn’t be. I have friends, fellow poets and writers. Sometimes the vast empty swallows me and I seem like I’m way too much too soon. I’m sorry for that.

And a part of me says, “stay, just stay.” and another part whose all too familiar, knows that you’ll go, and another part would do much to be proven wrong and fill the vast empty with something other than echos.

Dogs barking, can’t sleep without umbrella

Sitting awake meaning to sleep
But I just sit here eyes closed
Thinking about tomorrow
Anticipation insomnia
Trepidation too
But mostly I can’t sleep when I have things to say
Nonsense things
Pointless things
Cute things
Sexy things
Quiet things
Music things
Just things
It all pents up
Flowing out in this nervous energy
Keeps me awake
Keeps my mind churning
Over and over
Not exactly the best trait
To sometimes feel like you’re walking on spiky rocks
Needing to talk
And all that comes out is
“hey, 😁, good morning!”
Weirdo
Goofy Sir
Serious and happy
This is what I mean when I say
“I’m too much”
Too many things
Stupid things like
“I like you.” said too much
Words bubble out of my effervescent heart
Bypassing thought
It’s no wonder nothing lasts
Who could stand up to the onslaught of my feelings
And now we reach the heart of it
Fear
An anxiety attack that builds slowly
Reading, games, TV, kitties
Anything to not think
To not word vomit my heart out
Yet
That’s all that works
Other than being held