Tribulation does a strut,
Her kiss is sweet



When our hands touch,
It’s tentative, vulnerable
Our eyes revealing too much
Peeling back broken bridges
Cracked sidewalks in smoke hazy mirrors
Dark and shadowed places, her face
Fears and tears buried
Protected

Tributes to ancient tribulations
Scars that walk and talk
Past landscapes, flesh
Soul glide ride
Inside of a dream
Broken shells and
Caverned walls that bleed

I speak of beauty
Residual after shoots
of her eyes
forested mountains
mossy ponds licking meadows

I think sometimes
I think too much
Hollow no feel zone
Bleached bones
On beaches of ash
Tumbled words torn
From scar tissued throat

Belief following utterance
Jarbled sound bytes
My teeth crooked
And wayward
Jagged drips of venom
In the split tongue of a snake
Flickering, sensitive
Imparting whispers
From ethereal lips
To material hips

Nervousness is a disease
Something you ingest
In beginning toddler steps
And eyes that are still remembering
Somewhere else

And the words hit hard
Her exhale, breathing, uttering
“Go for it baby,
go for it”

amd her shy glide eyes
say it all
trembling hand
smooth talking skin
ancient age in Saturn pout
and I shout
“Your are a dream!”
sculptured curves
wonderous stars
soft sincerity, sanity

and her fingers skip down my chest
flick memories into skin
pain into disease

and she whispers
“Go for it baby,
go for it,
it’s love”