Shes Staring At Me Again,
Daring Me To Look Away
Begging Me To Scream At Her,
“leave Me Alone,
As I’ve Done So Many Times Before.
But I Can’t.
Now I Need Her To Look,
To Serve As A Constant Reminder,
To See For Myself The Disapproving Slit Of Her Mouth,
And The Tears Welling Up In Her Eyes.
Tears She’ll Shed For Both Of Us
For The Woman She Wanted Me To Be,
And The Reflection She Never Was.

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For P.
I Miss Your Hands –
Your Wrist Against My Thigh,
Waiting Palm Upturned,
Reaching To Join With Mine.
I Miss Your Fingers –
Traveling The Skin Of My Hand,
Fingertips Tracing Mine,
Learning My Contours.
I Miss Your Skin –
Olive And Silken And Smooth,
Warming Under My Touch,
Soft Hairs Bristling.
I Miss Your Eyes –
Clear And Dark And Searching,
Piercing Through My Veneer,
Seeking My Answers.
I Miss Your Scent –
Manly And Clean And Musky,
Floating From Your Skin,
Igniting My Memories.
I Miss Your Smile –
Warm And Full And Open,
Brightening Your Face,
Inviting Me To Match It.
I Miss Your Hug –
Pulling Me Tight To You,
Joining, Neck To Knees,
Circling Me In Your Arms.
I Miss Your Lips –
Tender, Sweet And Probing,
Drawing My Breath From Me,
Claiming Me As Yours.
Each Of These Things, I Miss,
And More –
And You Haven’t Even Left Yet.

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Her Eyes,
Blue As A Caribbean Tide,
The Lids Half-Closed.
The Smooth Slope Of Her Nose.
Her Lips, Pink And Full,
Parted,
Waiting Impatiently.
The Line Of Her Neck,
Curving Gracefully,
Drawing Attention Downward.
The Rise Of Her Breasts,
Ample,
Firming Under Your Eye.
The Swell Of Her Belly,
Soft, Female,
Tightening As You Watch.
Her Sex,
Hidden,
Swelling To The Touch,
Yearning.
Her Legs,
Strong,
The Muscles Taut
As The Toes Curl.
This Is The Woman Who Waits For You.

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 Amazing & Funny Photos

Man’s Legs As Clock Hands Cute Snow Man With Rice Creativity Just Eat It The Amazing Wat Samphran Temple In Bangkok I am Drowning In Those Beautiful Eyes Awesome Click Of Birds Koi Sahara Na Mila Bina Tere Muje Aye Dost A Beautiful Dog With A Flower Crown Sexy Sexy Sexy Mujhe Log Bole Metalmorphosis Creative Mirror Fountain

I Want Something;
A Prize That Quickens My Pulse
And Catches My Breath
And Overrides My Reason
Just By Thinking Of It.
And I Can’t Have It
Not Morally,
Or Ethically,
Or Publicly.
But I Want It Anyway.
So I Must Choose:
Do I Claim My Prize
And Risk Discovery And Contempt?
Or Do I Walk Away,
And Be The Honest, Moral And Upstanding Citizen
I’d Rather Not Be?
It’s Not Far From The Devil To The Deep Blue Sea…

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The Mist Swirls In Front Of Me,
A Plume Of Damp, Soft Haze.
I See Your Face In The Cloud,
Translucent, Blurred –
Your Razored Edges Softened
By The White Light Of Fog.
The Vapors Enfold The Sounds Of The Street
In Their Moist Embrace,
And I Hear You Call Me,
Again And Again.
Above, Below,
Ahead And Behind
You Are Everywhere, It Seems,
And I Am Getting Lost In You.

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Yearning,
Seeking,
Searching,
Wanting To Know Everything –
All The Secrets Withheld;
All The Remorse Unshared;
All The Unspoken ‘I Love Yous’;
All The Gratitude Unexpressed;
Why I Must Always Look Back.
Swirling,
Dancing,
Teasing,
Flirting With Life’s Pleasures,
Afraid To Live With The Reckless Abandon
I Tell Others To Embrace.
Unsure,
Ambivalent,
Skeptical,
Wishing I Was So Much More.

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You Ask Me To Be Strong –
To Nourish You,
As A River Feeds The Roots Of The Weeping Willow
On Its Banks.
You Ask Me To Be Brave –
To Comfort You,
As A Parched Traveler Finds Shade At An Oasis
In The Arid Desert.
But What If The River Has Run Dry?
What If The Constant, Burning Sun
Has Dried Up The Shade Trees,
And There Are No Rain Clouds In Sight?
What If All That Is Left Is Scorched Earth,
And There Is No Way Of Knowing
When The Drought Will End?

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We Walked, He And I.
Down Trails And Over Bridges,
Near Streams And Under Trees.
We Ambled Through Woods,
Watched Squirrels,
And Smelled Blossoms.
We Talked, He And I.
We Shared Memories,
And Laughter,
And Tenderness.
We Spoke Of Family,
And Silliness,
And Pain.
We Dreamed, He And I.
We Watched The Sky Fade,
And The Fireflies Light,
And Heard The Cricket Song.
We Traded ‘What Ifs, ‘
And ‘Somedays’
And Sweet Kisses.
We Shared, He And I,
We Opened Our Souls,
To Be Nurtured
And Filled Up,
And Renewed.
We Went To The Park,
And When We Left,
The Park Was Inside Of Us.

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I Have A Question –
An Enigma;
An Engineering Puzzle.
I Need To Know
How Your Mind
Connects To My Desire;
How Your Ideas
Inform My Thoughts
And My Dreams.
What’s The Conduit?
Is There A Schematic
That Shows The Path
From Your Words
To My Fantasies?
Are There Figures
To Illustrate The Steps
Between Your Concept
And My Deliverable?
No Matter.
The Flow Of Data
From Your Conscious
To My Subconscious
Is Collaboration At Its Best.

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For P.
A Rare Flower
In Your Hands,
The Bud Sealed Tight.
It Starts To Open
Under Your Care,
The Petals Loosening,
Stretching To Feel
The Warmth Of Your Sunshine.
It Will Bloom Fully
For A Brief Moment,
Exposing Its Inner Workings,
Then Withdraw Again,
Protecting Itself.
But Do Not Set It Aside.
For Once Freed By You,
This Bloom
Will Never Fully Close.
And The Secrets
Of Its Beauty
Belong To You Alone,
For It Is Your Words
Your Touch,
Your Spirit
That Have Released Them.

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