Sensual Epiphany

Sitting here,
So close I can feel
The hair on your arms,

I want to crawl inside your sweater
And share your space.
I want to take off my shoes
And slip in between your socks and your toes.

I want to feel your eyelashes on my neck,
Your breath on my spine.
My cold fingers
Cocooned in your warm fingers.

And this desire,
This sensual epiphany,
Overwhelms my good senses.
And I lean in to brush against those hairs.

I catch my breath,
Shake indecency from my thoughts,
And lean the other way.

Solar Infidelity

The villainous sunset left me cold,
clad as I was in melancholy.

She slipped beyond the horizon.
To wed the West.
To explore the other side.
To bring her heat,
her fire,
to someone new.

I was always aware of her wanderings.
Her compulsion to stray.
And yet I had hoped to be the one
to break this cycle.

Even now I can not abandon this hope,
as she has abandoned me.
I turn around.
Face the East.
And pray that she'll return.

Time

I have never made friends with time.
Time is false,
a pretender.
Made malleable by the mind.

Yet too strict and unyeilding
for my free spirit.
It is a law I'd like to break.

I have left a trail of busted clocks
and broken watches
in my perpetually tardy wake.

Or am I the liar?
I am a lover of the moon.
I follow her waxings and wanings.
The ebbs and flows of her tide
govern my blood.

I worship the turning of the seasons.
That reassuring cycle
that promises that death follows life,
but life follows death again.

I suppose I find nature's time piece friendlier
than those mockeries made by man.

Sacrilegious Storm

The storm thrust itself
Against the convent walls
With all the powers of God.

Lecherous sheets of rain
Doused young women in white
To see the flesh underneath,
While the ravenous wind,
Raging and lustful,
Tried to unclothe them.

The cold delighted in running its fingertips
Up long skirts,
Long legs,
Shuddering breasts,
And hardened nipples.

The tempest cared nothing
For the sanctity of this place,
As it chased virgins round the courtyard.

But at last its passion peaked
And was spent,
Leaving the ravaged maidens
To catch their breath.

Gravity

My body craves a little less gravity.
Then perhaps,
I wouldn't feel so low.
So weighed down.

I dream of bouncing,
Of near weightlessness.
I am electified by the fluidity,
Unencumbered by my full mass.
My particles have more elbow room.

I am feather light and invincible.
A moon maiden,
But doused in oxygen
And surrounded by trees and city blocks.
City smells and pine.

I would be more spirit than flesh,
With just a little less gravity.