…it is the deliberateness of the thing…

Let’s take a train trip to this our...so-called eternity and back love…

buy passage to a delightfully blended world of…

…avid, mortifying affection that demands a crippling strength

to acceptance of the thing that will break me …and let you in…

to places that enchant with… disquieting sound…creeping tendrils of

…all surrounding sound…arias that lull into love…

yes...i know i am on causeway of …fast free flow of

ultimately useless endearment…

careening towards a fragile forever….

and yes...full knowledge that you do not possess power to promise my happiness does not bring halt to this my... maybe foolhardy free fall into you…

…but know that you also…must choose to stay at each stop…

because you see….it will end well…only if it ends with us.

My King and I

it is a circular love

this love that you have for me…

endless in its measure

it roams for miles around my world and

brings me…sweet-meats from every shore…

my room is filled with…demonstrations of your ardor…

you adore…/

when you…..flood my senses with…rich reed scent of that Nile…/

as you/…cover my rough places...

with...finest shea-butter from Gambia’s baobab tapper…coaxing skin of my brow into…./love faces

and you…. whisper to me with anglo-franco symphony… polyglot of Zim and Zaire

your presence brings sweetness to my soul…/sighing endless breaths into soulful song…/I sing your praises to life in my life…..

I think on it endlessly…and still/…I have no memory of my life before you…

You give me power in prayer…/a love for this life…/and great expectations for forever….

...with you...

so...abide with me my love…

…and only go….if you take me with you.

sport

…now that you have opened your face to the way things are…in this place…

now/...we can truly play this game of/…professional love…

unconditional discovery of each stone that makes this…pleasure mountain…so great…

I cannot wait to show you how to find the peaks….as your fingers play hide and seek…/

within each crevice of this supple rock face…/we are finding dim caves of brave secrets…/plant your flag on this place my friend….mark your territory…

…for this land is mine…it is yours…it is ours.

...for this my bond-man in Bristol...

we spoke...124...or ....maybe more... sixty second tick-tocks...
like rush of breath...it came and went...
and again we.../ covered the space in this age when
we were gone from each other...
...and again..it felt like it was just
yesterday...
when we last joined our tongues in...
song and dance of verbal mah jong...
connecting matching wall paper squares like...
....children joined at the hip...like water-baby mer-babies...free-fall-flow... our syllables made...
pretty patchwork portraits of those..../moments in our lives...
we had missed....
before we spoke....
i will...see you in your room in Bristol tonight...behind your closed eyes
beloved...and we will live in our/sacred hiding place...
until the next time we speak.

...it is the inevitability of the thing...

It is our weakness that joins us

our last ditch effort to

hold some sort of connection with our…

two for one fantastic reality…

we lay about us…

with imagined sobriety…mouse traps

Set to catch us before…. we fall again

Into that familiar unfortunate eden

Mirage-like oasis…gone too quickly

Strong long strokes in… endless sea of compromise

we do not know when the final call will blow

signaling the end of our summer swim meet..

an away game where… no one could possibly win..

our consolation remains in the thought that

we have a date with two root-beer floats in Miss. Jessie’s diner

you and I

that yet again….we will meet at the end

you and i.

olofofo

it was a small thing…
no direct words…no obvious look…
it was... the small things…flicker of his right eye-lid…
minuscule flaring of his nostrils…
quickened pulse in left temple…and I knew
it was time to make for the door…
leaving behind ...foul fragrance of my falsehood…
I watched my soul-man disintegrate before my eyes…
...he knew…
How?…I don’t know…
was it fresh smell of fresh foreign saliva…lingering on my…
freshly kissed lower lip…
Was it…
new crease on my…delicately woven scarf…Hermes bond of truth…
come ever so slightly undone…
Or was it…residue of flesh under my...tapered fingernails…
remnants of rawness shut-off behind closed door of…
...the linen closet he had watched me steal through…
mere minutes before…
It was the small things….
Heightened sensation on finger pulse-points from all sides…sought to point me out…
Find me out…
Flushed out by deep flush on my cheeks…
I welcomed the cold night….beneath my skirt…
Still warm from passion incomplete…
Frozen dis-satisfaction…
I sat frozen on leather seat of desire misfired…
Final engine rev of resolve carried me away into night colored with ink smoke…
And I resolved to put an end to it…tomorrow.

chatter

Words railing against railings of strictured silence

It is still a struggle to

Put through this pen-ultimate vehicle

These things that talk inside of these fore-corners

So I strip my mind of it’s lethargy and

Wear the conspiracy of thought and action

As talisman about my neck

Nestled within that hollowed movement

Throbbing gong of warning…

Telling all bearers of false news to

Stay away

For I want, this day, to speak only the truth.