Paper over the pain

paper over the pain

with sex

layers of orgasm

sticky

white

hardening

like plaster. 

but when I stretch

the cracks 

form

first small

rivers of doubt

then

wide caverns of pain

neither your touch

nor your kiss

can put me right again

until you agree 

to build a real foundation.

Last year on the sand

a year ago
they took our picture
before our story had really begun
back when you touched me in public
before you I begged you to hurt me
when I knew where I stood with you

before I was lost
in the ocean
of your eyes
their storms and their swells
when the sea was calm
and I walked along the beach

safe from the weatherman
who lives in my head
and re-reads the charts
looking for patterns
and meaning
when really
it is just nature at work

Staring out the window of the car.

No matter
what I say
my face betrays my heart
like a double agent
playing a triple.

In the outfield,
I am watching
waiting for your play.

Only happy in our games,
as your slave
a wholly owned subsidiary
of all of your possessions.

Lost in the ruble
of your home
amongst the books and papers
you constantly seek to escape

running from all that is real,
imagined,
between us

and it is these thoughts which plague me
as I stare out the window of my car
 you ask me, familiar
"What?"

Chair (in progress)

I have an old chair

comfortable but beaten down

when I bought it

I said to myself

"this chair is only temporary"

so it doesn't matter

that its 

the wrong color

(matching nothing in my home)

the wrong fabric

"why did I pick that pattern?"

"after all its only temporary,"I told myself as I passed it on my way to the kitchen.

Day after day

I watched T.V., read books, stared out the window

all from my temporary chair

it became a piece of my life

its color a statement of my independence

"not everything has to match"

its fabric, soft, inviting, 

with an intriguing pattern that occupied my eyes while I lost my thoughts.

Now, I claim suzerainty 

and no one else may sit there.

I adore this chair 

and think I shall never give it up. 

waiting for your reply

I cannot breathe
our last goodbye is standing on my chest
pressing down
pushing the air from my lungs
with the weight of all that was unsaid between us.

wanting only to feel
your lips on mine
your breath in me
filling me up
releasing me from the torment of all my uncertainty.

addictions

Its the storm in your eyes
the lines of your smile
the way your body moves
that keeps me coming back for more

Its the wit of your mind
the secrets that you hide
the way that you talk
that keeps me coming back for more

Its the way that you tease
the skill with which you play
the way that touch me
that keeps me coming back for more

Its all that you hold back
and all that's left unsaid
the way that you lie
that keeps me coming back for more.

A Masochist's Romance

If your hits were kisses

I'd be covered in love.

and the bruises you leave me

are better than hugs.

But still I can't help

against all that I know

that you'll take me in your arms

and tell me I'm yours.

So hit me and spank me.

Leave marks red and blue.

And I'll bite my tongue 

before I'll tell you the truth. 

I know I don't belong here

in this strange wonderland.

But I'll overstay my visa

as long as I can.