In Answer For You, Too Late

What do I want
beyond the obvious
desire? to hold
you afterwards
until the sun rises;
to write poetry
to sing for you
between conversation
and caresses;
to find myself
again with you
laughing – –
instead of now
and here, alone.

(December 21, 2014)

Anguish

Mornings
as you shower
before work,
I hear you:
frustration
ripping through
wet lungs,
such deep sobs,
as if your heart
were evaporating
into steam.

(December 19, 2014)

What Am I Afraid Of?

of what I am
leaking into what
I hide within
so that I am opened
of failing to be
who I need to be
for the people who
need me to be me
of becoming my fears
in such a manner
I am broken like
a sack of sand
of never being more
than a frightened fool

(December 7. 2014)

ouroboros’ hunger

I am a worm
absorbing and excreting
my earthy remains:
I strip away
nagging remorse;
strip away
all desire
for some other
than now,
to find
I return
a blind dog
along cold traces
filling in old vacancies
with ornate mouthings
that gnaw
their silent hunger
through my skin.
(December 1, 2014)