Newly loved

mirror
his eyes look for me
but he cannot see
his path is crowded
with the shadows
of my footprints


today is different
i sit here
quiet.
waiting
for the night
and his lips.


there is this night
there is this night
some nights away

when the tears are done
when the cold you feel
on your ears
has touched elsewhere

when his hands comfort
and caress your face
and he looks inside you

and all the metaphors
in this world

cannot change it
into mushy poetry


item number
roses are expensive
valentine’s is market driven
parties bore me
but you dance in the room
like you want me to love you


this morning
this man said
he needs me

took me
in his arms

ran his fingers
rough
on my unshaven face

kissed last night's breath
waking my eyes to-day

and let me sink
in his need


how do you talk?
he begins.

he twists his tongue
around yours.
grasps your mind
in his hair.
pinches you
till you’re red
with thought.

grapples with
your hands
for expression
sucks your nipples
for desire
puts his head
against your chest
and listens to
your memories

traces your back
with his fingers
digging for an idea
massages your thighs
to erect a dialogue
and sits on your lips
to descend into conversation