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All This Waiting In Between All This Loving
I want you more every day
I feel the acute pain of being apart, dear Asha, like a flash that zips past my head and causes me to drop and roll into a dark protective corner.
The way I kneel before you is no crime, in fact it brings peace to the land, adding spices to the bland dusty bread we otherwise consume.
Like all that is holy, the origin of my desire existed before time began, when all was void and motionless.
It would be a shame, my love, to go running past the doorway like a ghost who wants to scare you but ultimately has no conviction.
In our adult world there is climax after climax, the pleasure from which will replace the need for any therapist.
Last night we trashed the lamp in our panic and the room suddenly became dark, making it impossible for either of us to make any sort of observation.
It was so dark, in fact, I forgot what color the grass is where I stand and wait for the train to take me to where you are, carrying only my charm with me, which hangs on the inside of my body like a skeleton covered in the clothes of a monster.
The poems provoke — in me and in you — the rightful need to plead to one another, to make the myth that men and women aren’t devoted…
