SnowIt is snowing.The streets are velvet-whitethe trees dusted as if with icing-sugar.A woman: young, smilingchattering to a baby in a buggywrapped warm against the frost.He smiles at the snow, awestruck.Virgin eyes devour the scene before himas they plough along the pavement.And they fade, you and I.An empty, frozen space where we should be.You won't meet the snow, this year.
Chance MeetingA momentary recognition, your eyes flick [up and down me, seeing the flesh beneath] toward me and shudder to a halt on the ground.Trying hard not to see me, not to remember [writhing, sweating, grinding, pounding] what we did, what we had, what we were.Your face is blank, your chest rises and falls [lustfully, shaking breath shows desire] as you try to stay calm, stay unnoticed.Stare straight ahead, statue-like, motionless [as we slide together in ecstacy in your mind] desperate to move on, to avoid my gaze.I can see the scar on your shoulder, I remember [I kissed it, raking fingernails down you] you wouldn't tell me what it was from.You glance coyly toward me, a half-smile [you still feel it; I see you swallow dryly] as you move away, you don't look back.
she isHer lips, moist against mine, were like honey dripping with the muskysweet scent of the petal.Dewdropped, they brushed my cheek the softest of feathers.Parting slowly like a shell to reveal rows of pearls shielding a sweet strawberry-tongue; delicateshe moved its tip to me, tasting me.She is love; she is every woman I have ever had; She is power, she holds me completelywith a dominance I could not deny her, she is woman.Her possession is a blessing.
Hallowe'enThe kids dress up at Hallowe'en,They shout and laugh, they run and scream,Their hair is black, their faces green,The kids, dressed up at Hallowe'en.I hear them screeching down the street,The age-old call of "Trick-or-treat!"They're after candies, small and sweet,As they come screeching down the street.I hear them knocking on my door,I'm hiding, laid flat on the floor,My lights are out as I ignoreThe trick-or-treaters at my door.It isn't that I'm cheap and mean,In the generous time of Hallowe'en,It's just I'm scared of being seenBy scary ghosties at Hallowe'en.They say it's all just kids dressed up,But I've had a real good look close up,Under the costumes and all that make-up,Are monsters, I'm not making this up!I'm scared that if I loosen the chainsOpen the door to the candy campaigns,They'll bite my neck - and suck my veins!Cut open my head and eat my brains!
You Try But FailMy skin is paper; scrawl your name across my cheekmerging your inky hand with so many others.It crackles beneath your touch but you don't hear.You only see its smoothness, and you smile.Run your fingers through my hair; it's wirepulling power from the air to fuel my thoughtsAnd all you feel is the curl in your palmAll you know is that soft, shining cloak.You take my hand, feel the warmth of my skinpulling me close so you can get a better look.You don't see the flow beneath the surfaceThe current running from the earth to my spirit.Make your mark on me: a bruise, a love-biteA half-moon wanes angrily on my breastFrom the intensity of your desperate grip.Underneath, the full moon glowsShining so brightly it almost blinds me,yet still you're in the dark, fumblingSo far away from the energy that powers the soul.