i todavía te veo, en estos días.
su corazón en la manga
crying out, for
softness
the curve of a hip
the sighs of trusted breath in the dark
beneath the gaze of
solidarity.
the holiday intimacy haunting
these days so colder and
wild fast flight.
growing old with no sugarcoats
sole and born creation
the wine-soaked drunk of
a vicious love so true
it burns.
pull it in and stow away.
retreat and scream into the guitar strings.
I love the rawness of you,
always.
oh, such fullness in this chest
the icy nights remind me of
the body of our union
mouthed slowly like moist bread
Swallow
so far and yet only yesterday
yesterday is a memorized smile,
the comfort of the winter snow.
The snow that was yours and yours alone.
made for you, your coyote words and
capped mountaintips.
these days I'm breaking the denial
demanding myself a poet
the Heart's true space of
burn. burn these pages
hide your eyes from yourSelf
familiar yet so
alien
in open watchfulness of sun.
and you yearn for that legendary romance
masking with such masculine laugh
should nobody see this?
the freeness of the light
can't you see, mountain man?
your own glow in the snow
the whispers of folklore --
can you feel it?
Your infinite gift.
One of these mornings
you will break open.
should you open to your own greatness
the search would taper into
Still waters,
breasts of satiation.
the healing of our shared Heart
promise to surrender your
ancient ache
into
adoration
for
that
soft. endlessness of your wisdom and
the affection of the mountains. Your eyes.
Gentle
completion of Soul.
it takes a muscle to find Love
so climb higher and
claim it as rightful strength,
pump it up.
