Poems

Plea

Subsumed in this morning's gray
I feel myself
acutely
In my own small cell of time

I desire the cure for loneliness
your eyes bequeath,
your lips give
unto me.

Your breasts I long to feel
Between the tender yearning tips
of fingers that ache

To sense all of you,
Again and again.
I cannot get enough
And I cannot get to you.

Where lies the balance?

This is just one aspect
Of a feeling that looms large
Within the pulsating heart
Of a man who knows love.

I am not schooled
in regulation of desire
And don't want to learn how now,
Or have I ever.

Water me, ma cheri
For not only must the small be nourished.

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