i'm engrossed in CNN right now, following a day of reading about the hurricane. i have no concept... but that's all i'll say about it.

i wrote a lot at work today. following is some of what came out.

--

you hammer my head
so twirling and light
a tickle of insanity
whose grasp i can't control
ebb and flow...wax and wane...

the wax begins to crack
i prefer it melts away
to drop upon your chest
enhance
this deeply karmic pleasure
your mouth, my stomach
your hands, a twist


planted isolation
scent of a rose
i'll look up and see you there


it's unweaving
amber thread

--

my hands
your blue
they rest there well
craving of touch
a mouth
a chill
substitution, no fufillment
those knots are still tied
in patience, a croak
copper borders
the sun

--

i don't mind being alone
as long as it's a choice
my mind travels far in a minute
so it's hard to verbalize
except for when it's not.
you seem to touch those topics
with the broadness and depth
that inspire my breath.
i lose touch with what that means,
communication that isn't lost on words
and my scattered brain's held down
for a moment
just to float
back up again with you.

--

your carnage is daisies
ordinary
psychopath
smoking butts
you cross the line
and your breath keeps them away
exhale
watch them wilt
and maybe real flowers will grow
with thorns
to peck and eyes

who needs them anyway?

--

you were missed, my love
i cannot express it enough
no, really
i can't.
you nuzzle my neck far too well
with full knowledge,
out of fun

we're complimentary
your final realization has hit
we're bound
and in love
and horribly confusing
to those who don't know.
there's a line,
it's not blurred,
though it's far off in the distance.

thanks for the release you provide
though it deepens my thirst
(for him)
that much more.

--

i don't know where you've gone
oh, how my heart holds you aloft
then dunks you back in,
murky and flaming,
an epitaph for all those questions you've answered with silence.
the longer it waits,
the longer the orgasm -
a sexual purge
kept between crossed legs.

but i can still squirm
and clench and release
but the fantasy, my love
rarely reaches for you.
you're there, lurking with violence
where the cars are white and hot
and the sheets are laced with blood.

but you understood...
yet left.

i'm too courageous for that.