Tea timer- or Spoon meet Mug

Every day I think of you.

You both boarded us in new East Berlin, took us to the fancy store, toured the Metropolis stage. We could just afford to buy a tea timer, the best of Lang’s social control.
I turn it over each day as I make my tea and think of you and yours for exactly three minutes.

Tea made with forgiving water we all must use.
I think of you with fondness after decades of friendship (with occasional knots) My hope being made of the world shifting just a bit more slowly than my wish. I wonder if your friend who was planning to work in Africa is somewhere making tea?

You remain solid, dedicated in Africa, a devastated inner city volunteer helping children, bringing fresh water every week, teaching art.
You once gave me a hand made wooden spoon, every day I use it to stir my tea drinking a prayer for your safety.

It was in the middle of the last century you gave me a hand painted mug in celebration of my birth. Pastel brushed elephants and balloons, life is still a circus.
I was yet too small to hold it, I never met you, don’t know what you look like.
I drink tea from that mug, my first hoarded treasure.

Every day I thank you, working the same earth that I worked – from can to can’t – as a child picking weeds and grubbing bugs. World away field, daily toil and devotion familiar earth taste in my mouth. Your labor enriching countless every day – your hands slake my thirst, your spoon holds my flavor, your mug bears my childhood, your timer works upside down.

The tea tastes good.

Leave love on your path

Leave love on your path for others to find, it is all we have. Our fools passed anger shows only animal intent and humanity’s measured in bits of forgive to other’s fearful grown hate. Forgiveness wholly betrothed to earth’s green skin, lit with rain, wonders blossomed growth. Her quiet shining gravity passing rainbows thru soul’s bowel, soil’s stygian blessing of springtime’s innocent. Yet remember lost colors immense peace, wanderer’s goal. Entropy’s rotting joke, as falling flame grows uncrying carbon bone holding roots. Fanning the sky with branches made of sun’s tears, rich life blossoms from moonlight’s pearled dreams.

Merry meet.

I hadn’t seen her in years. She had gone off to her life on the east coast. Even though I had met her briefly but yet she is so memorable and I had hope that we might play. so I sit in the car waiting for her to show up with her friend Cayenne. I watch the rear-view to catch them coming up the street. They turn the corner of my block with smiles. I think, “smiles are a such a blessing.” I wait until they come into touching distance and open the car door, heave my broken bulk up, reaching for cane and turning slowly to greet her after so many years. Her masters program sedentary study hall roundness has melted, she is a young goddess, a stunning brunette where a halting cute girl had once stood. Our eyes meet and that thing people talk about happens, unexpectedly we find common heart and soul. My hopes at crass seduction are smashed as my breath catches and the world falls quickly to an erotic stop. We have words for this but they do not say what happens as erotic dimension shifts us in to an almost and yet more than psychic click. I am caught in the beauty of her smiling eyes as we lock the world to a halt. Both suddenly know that this is more important than everything else around us, not sure, we hug and kiss, chatting and me feeling a now unsure comprehension we walk and talk, stealing quick secret looks at the other one – “Are you sure of this” I wonder? Not willing to go all natural and fall to the sidewalk as the wanton animal inside us both is telling us to do we remain human. We get back in the car and go for a neutral zone. Pizza, god food indeed, and when our table mates give us a tiny moment alone it happens again. The world shrinks to an eggshell, no-one and nothing exists with us for a timeless microsecond in which our souls are bared and connection opens with a clear torrent of ” You there, I want you, now, here. Everybody else go away.” Our boundaries have fallen and as adults in public we must compose this thing so as friends re-seat we blink and then we are again two people, shyly hoping that this will grow and become more physically real.
I chat – just wanting to say, “let’s just go fuck.” but she has no time and it would be rude to our friends and partners. So I chat and – heart in throat – propose to maybe meet again in some silly way and she says yes. Anticipation rushes to my head, dizzying and erotic I am breathless with hope to find yet another of the hidden carnal creatures who feels that we can become something else, something sacred and joyous. Something for the gods of the fields to savor as prelude to their feast.

Glistening

Slipping slowly to ground I moan the name and reach to myself. I miss her skin, hungry for lips and voice. Blood throbs rigid, the memory of teasing touch, smooth lips tasting thighs slipping hot flesh seeking new flavor. Grasses high and soft, earthen bed under, I stroke quietly listening to whispering tall soft grass. A gasp stills my questing palm from awaited kiss. Quiet, small me moves toward breathless wonder of whom, where and can I see. Parted grass finds her, verdant earthen lover, roots waiting under soft moon. Rampant sliding, dryad still and cool takes gnarled thrust open and wanton, grasping moist bark gasping spend in mossed roots of wonder. Moaning like syllables, striking tongues match, cloth sublimes in ever-lost moments, joined, our skins slide to union. We are watched; she, wanton, watches back, hotter now, feeling ever and again more than full she whispers the story along my neck, telling me we are now for him. Our gift is her lust for him. She holds the cradled earth always, watching, aroused root spending life into story, spring lives again and again as we lift ourselves to wonder at whom, what is there. Liquid sand holds us separate, doubled and again, watching from inside – our watcher becomes us. Time spirals, soft feather touch rouses mud to motion as gasping dryad’s leaves tell stories of sunlit stone to tears of roots in earth. Sand tells time, glistening as it falls in rippling reflected light, the earth breathes in wonder.

Lovely – Lola’s echo

Lovely, aching, moving,

now graceful flesh sliding, trembling moist sips on hot buzzed gentle gasps. Tongued sliding want, your end at my taste holding close, so very close as temptation takes just one more liberty with your need, finding moist promise filled. What ends met in this, our passions, to be heard and known, opened universe pouring infinite starlight through shared be-stilled hearts? Grace in our flesh arises with healing touch, our want for something more – chaste and caught again and again taut purity falls in sliding soft diamond glittered obeisant waterfalls. Neither banged nor whimpered our fierce love dies in reaper’s small death, taking our hearts joy as very spark of existence. Be known – and wonder, as fearful quivering masses watch the carnal who laugh and cry, the last of the free humanity.

Waiting is

Waiting is the thing a mind is not convinced is right, body aching with want and miss of your touch and taste. Heart stored soft whispered encouragements and gasps of pleasured excitement power sole satiation. My mind says it is not right to wait, that there is no reason to do without because of distanced flesh. Confusion leads to centered inside soul felt dreams of you, dreams of powerful connection beyond thought, a larger universe invoked together. I am driven to want you, need you, carving stories with your voice in them to hold me, to touch my heart while you are away. I dress you and move you around in my mind, as I believe but briefly, that I am not alone. Evoked mysterious dreams of pleasures with you are soft notes that hold me in our distance. Dreams of unknown and unknowable hold darkness away until our flesh again dances in blessed bond. Waiting holds my tears full palmed as still quiet pond to slake the thirst of your absence. Interrupted darkness is my bed as I pause, unbidden light painting lips as I sip my pale mythical soup of want.

Mirror – homage to Molly

Waiting breathless we lean back with your spine against my hard front. Hands slow and patient I cup your breasts hoping for tense nipples to mark my palms with wanton expectation of your need. Naked we are, sliding together into mutual want as I run my hands slow down your sides to fall together across you thighs, holy palmers tryst one big hand on yours, the other pushing your thighs further open to see. Breathe deep and now we start my soft voice on your ear insisting and enlisting courage I tell you of you as my hand learns from yours what to take and give this always new thing that people do together and apart. Thigh hand rising I slide under hair to fist the soft fiber and pull gently, without question your face toward mine I tell you, tell you what you are going to do as I watch then taste you, as I watch and hold you, as I watch and feel you, on me, in me, my breath with yours, in your eyes we fall as a wet machine finds life and becomes human. Deeper, slower, breathe, keep it open and let me in now, let me into your place, your special, beautiful place where we believe and we love. Watch us play with us and find that thing you want that thing that’s there, you know it, you know it’s there, you just want it better, deeper, more insistent. Touching, wet and soft you move slower now keeping your self relaxed and breathing it will take you, patience and breath. Hold it, your breath, with my palm and insist you give me, give me what you’ve brought, give it all now, and now, and now. You can take it now, want it all, fingers dilating you a hand, all my hand, yes all, now, push my hand. Big, world full big, almost too big, so big it almost hurts full, we connect, complete and starting anew. Breathe, breathe again into this endless place that won’t stop and has never happened before. Watch me, my eyes on you as we breathe together anew. Listen as I tell you of your beauty as helpless joy rises. Listen as I hear your heart, make your heart beat against my wetness as you watch yourself swell to my touch.