Poems from The Damaged Good: Poems Around Love
John | The Racial Divide | Lessons | Role Play | The Net | The Absence of Light | The Prize
green eyes
every young
project girl
dreamed
of them
like petting
from him
as gentle
they caressed
their own
nipples
craving
just one
trembling
moment
in his
gaze
but
he
bent my
knees
held himself
stiffly
brushed
my lips
had me
stare
at his sex
while the
emerald
of those
eyes
gaped
at the
moon.
you are fucking me
with white skin
unrelenting
cudgel
delirious with fever
I am heaving ardor
my stilt bed of politics
aches with straining
I am blisters rupturing
closed cells opening
heart
inside
Those two cats of his
passing the night
between my calves
along the backs
of my inner thighs
pressing the comforter tight
against my narrow legs
their weight binding me
to the yielding
of his soft mattress
my breathing made shallow
less by the memory
of his pushing
against my spine
as by the presence of them
inhabiting the room
spilling my every drink of air
investing even his skin
like dust settling there
on his rising chest
misting slender shoulders
tiny seeds sown
in the till of his earth
on the moist
of my ardent affections
Those two cats of his
have learned spells
I yearn still to know
to make myself
the very atmosphere he breathes
scent of his skin
texture of his clothes
to keep him
always heading home
to feed me
a faithful master
to make his bed
each of its four corners
my own
Desire knows
that the mind
can be its enemy
Conditioned by repetition
latitude may be lost
like memory
Frightened
by puckered things
Emasculated
Some bottoms
terrify easily
like virgin braggarts
Come before invitations
Lose rigidity
after first kiss
Such minds flee
even before the skin
senses any danger
on the net
my computer becomes
a back room, dark
in a club
speakers, subwoofers
push classic R&B
like ecstacy, crystal meth
dazzled by descriptions
enticed by penises
frozen humongous
in squares of light
untroubled by lies
typing responses
wondering where
my behind will end
cheeks up?
spread-eagled?
a raw wound basking?
seeping impetuousness?
oozing regret?
on the net
binary, brazen
hours seated
at my crystal window
trying to sate hunger
across masculine
signals
search engining
fucks
somewhere
lost
digital
night
We will need to find a new place for it
In the thin of things that night has left us
You are melted ice in my slender hands
I cannot hold you for the godforsaken spaces
Between my fingers, the drumbeat of our flight
We trample daffodils beneath the hooves of this cruising
Never harkening even to the scent of pine enveloping our silence
I would give breath to my hunger for holding you
But words are silver bullets here, like charring light
We are afraid of letting go of our many demons
Putting down the broken-legged horses of our plight
Tell me to what new hush we will go like failed murderers
I would follow you into any darkness or thicket
Open myself to you in any dank blight.
Breaths converging
under faint lights
like stars on water
Fantasies of ark-ish love float
atop shimmers of sweat
waterfalling at his sides
He knows
the slow tilting of head
cavern of mouth
swallowing hours
like shots of gin
in a bar
on a street called
Darkness
He twists nipples
delicately
in the blush
of rising members
His own
those fragrant others
Calls feeling into being
Feigns real affection
Pretends to glow
like morning sunshine
in the pitch of storms
Waits as daybreak
A muffled radiance
complaining quiet
behind cloud
He looks up
into the moat
of other men’s eyes
Knows a castle sits
beyond the brush
of their testicles
Hidden somewhere
above voices like theirs
that do not speak
nor utter sound enough
even to lie
Like life
he remains patient
in these shadows
Beneath calloused hands
Inside the moist warm shelter
and grasp of ass.
He ponders as a panel
of contestants
the answers he will give
to the true love
he swears he desires
Pulsates
like a child of fireflies
eager for some ultimate
prize.
