After all...
He was the only one I cried for Joy for.
He was the only one who, when I left, I thanked God I had had this experience with him.
can you bring me back/ can you sail me back/ fly me hard/ pull my wings from my back/
can you bring me back/ to the brink of my being/ I want inside outside/ inbetween/ I want/ sweet sweat/ on fire-tongued bodies/ I want/ your spark of sunlight.
can you steal me back/ can you melt me through/ can you erupt in me/ what I feel for you/
can you
make it work/ create a master plan/ I'll remember your arms/ and sail to your land/
and I'll love you/ til the end of my days/ yes I'll love you/ in my own way/ and I'll love you/ though the thoughts turn to stone/ unchanging and solid/ and yet we still roam.
to this I decree/ a memory treasured/ I held it within me/ remembered to remember/ and darling I'll remember/ I won't let it die/ whatever you want/ I still have/
those beautiful days/ and those enchanted nights.
(Picture Response)
when you framed us,/ color to silver shadows,/ contrasting the royal print of each/ architecture defined in pixel perfect symmetry/ did you artfully manicure each corner of our faces/ to fit into eachothers embrace?/ or was it just the placement/ of a hand slipping perfectly/ along the curve of my jaw/ "he/ holding her/ comme une fleure"/ somewhere in the shadows on cheeks/and the curved splinters of light/ that shine through our eyes lashes/ we share our peace/ curving round the lips/ we come together./ you are the man you will be/ in this photograph of two people/ in one place/ one emotion./ the tip of your tongue/ is slipping foreign memories/ into my mouth/ of romance/ moonlight/ the bustling city of L.A./ is speaking German.
in his eyes the sun flashes/ illuminating the soul beneath the skin/ so fragile/ so easily torn/ but beautiful/ resiliant/ radiant even in sleep./ I see him dreaming/ caressed by black locks of hair/ my fingertips trailing/ the white cotton sheet/ tangled between his legs./ strong hands/ gentle and fueled by passion/ a red rose is held in the fume of his lips/ the flame teasing gently/ at the woodnymph he carries/ on the cusp of his hip./
but his boy hands/ and soft skin/ tasting of indian spices/ drenched in the soft sticky sweat of/ sweet wine/ skin the color of rust/ golden sunsets on a never bordered horizon/ Belgian chocolate soft melted heat/
My heart unfolds/ lotus blossom opening/ sweet aroma of devotion/ sparkling in ripples/ between the moments of our union./ my eye always catching/ a faint ray of light./ we sit still on the edge/ of a cliff facing oceans/ facing West/ the electrified current of our hearts/ praying./
the salt crystals on skin/ "my mermaid" he tells me/ the waves crashing
in the dark/ shadows erupting from pockets of light/ our inner flames bursting/ in poetic echoes of/ desire and/ naive love/ ignorant of where it will lead/ from one day/ to the year next/ when I find you again/ beneath a starless/ indigo sky/ and the moon sings to you/ to lay beside me/ and the curve of my hip/ speaks to you of womanhood/ warmth and hot blood/ the calm persuasion of my eyes/ and the quick wit in my tongue./ your slow coming smile/ spreading across your stare/ revealing the boy/ and discovering the man/ I had not left the young summer last/ for to me/ even your stubble is erotic/ and your spoken words/ of which mean nothing/ without the translation of your heart/ are what filled me/ with inconceivable portraits/ of blue-lotus happiness/ of dancing Krishnas/ of Yogananda's multifold laughter./ Divine punchlines/ running through my spirit/ broke-open with joy.
left glowing/ in the picture we took/ the girl who learned love/ the boy seeing beauty/ the man learning/ unexpected/ the taste of pure sweetness/ the woman knowing patience/ learning to keep the memory genuine/ unjudged/ uncompared./ til the day in a summer/ as Time learns the difference/ between what it can change/ and what is always kept./
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