traitorous space/the ones left behind

The narrow space between our wrists
morphs into dangerous temptation.

Step by step under broiling white lights,
slowly, suddenly, slyly…floating away from
coded commitments and shapeless sheets,
we fall into fair florid irises, promising
all without so much as a word.

Traitorous space
briskly, bindingly, boldly…slips swiftly away
in our hour of need.


:::where the cherries grew:::

Kiss me in daylight
neath June’s lying skies.
Our flesh is still young yet
but won’t be for long,
think back to our misplaced and lost loving song.

It’s faint as a fox kiss,
yet there nonetheless,
I dare you to hear it
with ears that submit.

And if that melody, old but new
should take firm hold inside of you,
come find me where the cherries grew.
I’ll be there with a kiss for you.