Sweet Tooth

Sipping nectar like a butterfly

When your smile blooms

Fluttering down to those delicate pink lips

To gorge myself on sweet words

Proboscis probing your adjectives

Gently penetrating your metaphor

Then I fly off to my sunny pages

Seeding the flowery prose

With your thoughtful pollen






*proboscis: the tube-like tongue of a butterfly


Seven Days, And Heaven Nights

Heaven lingers on my lips,

A memory haunts my fingertips,

As you pass through the room like a springtime breeze,

With the morning light on blanketed seas,

And slowly I arch like the cat with the cream,

Wondering if perhaps you were a naughty dream,


Flickering behind my secret eyes,

Filled with the aftertaste of sighs,

That brushed ear lobes when the moon hung low,

In the silence my heart expanding slow,

‘Till it fills the room like the rising sun,

Leaves me grinning, quietly stunned,


What power is this that you possess,

That makes of me such a pretty mess?

Tongue tied and twisted with all unspoken,

Pleased to be so adroitly broken,

As the walls crumble down and all is bare,

Exposed to your smiling, silent stare,


The smell of you still on the sheets,

Your heat still burning on my cheeks,

Whoever thought stubble could be so grand,

Or the the curves of you filling up my hands?

In the sunshine of your fleeting love,

I thank my lucky stars above.



-For Jamie

Bedtime Phantoms

Weightless in my wanting,

Riding the waves on a sea of blankets,

Humming quietly to the darkness,

As a breeze through the window,

Cools my skin,


A smile is found lingering,

On my thirsty evening lips,

And I wonder oh so lightly,

What name they hold captive,

In the moist den,

Of my mouth,


Who prompted this latent grin?

Who has snuck into my head space?

I am lying here alone, yet haunted,

By my unknown aggressor,

In love,


Be gone you tasteful demon,

Assail me no more with kisses,

So weightless as a sigh,

Tying up my ragged heart strings,

Into Gordian’s knot.





5 am And Counting

Shadows stir like a snake in the grass,

Ominous in the absence,

Silence quivers,


Figments of fancy parading past,

Like wayward currents,

Of  celestial rivers,


Streetlights haunt the paneling of pine,

Echos whisper soft remorse,

With the rustling of sheets,


Rolling over yet again, I check the time,

Still helplessly hoping,

For dream’s release.

The Insatiable Hunger

Yearning for meat to sink my teeth into,

Some food for thought to gnaw and chew,

A stick-to-the-ribs kind of down home fare,

That you eat with both hands while people stare,


I want the bullshit on the side, with extra slaw,

A few crayons, an extra place mat on which to draw,

Grill it medium, but rare, like footprints in the trees,

Red like the childhood scrapes on my knees,


Let it nourish my body, with laughter like rain,

In the blooming of spring, with a grass stain,

Make it rhyming and rhythmic, riddle the words,

‘Till I’m bent around metaphor where epiphany stirs,


Wrap me around your voice, like a ribbon on your finger,

Pull me into deep waters, where your mysteries linger,

Expose to me your other half, the tender flesh inside,

Show me what the world looks like, through hooded eyes,


Feed me grapes of wrath, or fruit of knowledge from your tree,

Just don’t sugar coat it with flattery, no platitudes for me,

Lay it all on white sheets, elaborate, feel free to take your time,

Show me what you’ve got to give, and I will show you mine.


Moon Walker




My eyes watch your furtive lips,

In the moonlight, through the trees,

The outline of your hips,





When you are done with words you cannot define,

Those paltry excuses you wield,

Explaining what lay between your heart and mine,





As your bare toes in the grass,

Whisper like your secrets,

Then slowly pass.