Dominated by a Day



My hair is simple.
She loves tangles,
Loves entwining with me.

The canoes on the river
Are justified by the running train
Of water beneath them.

What combination of lips and skin
Can we design?
Her hands flare me with sweet sickness.
Her teeth tattoo me
With impatience.

On the river banks
The woods grow up.

Seek my mind,
Steep it in honey.
Warm my thighs.

In the river,
The dead swim among the rocks.
Her tongue on my breasts
Flicks me on like a light.
Her hand on my belly captures my breath.

Among the reeds,
A rusting locket with one picture.

Winter Women


Summer sylphs repel me,
Slip away as though they were never a certainty.
I prefer winter women,
Fat with autumn and
Soft as snowfall
Their bodies as deliberate as shadow,
As lovable and mysterious as cloud.



Her legs are incendiary.
Though I travel 100 miles,
Dragging the point of myself
Through broken glass,
She watches my natural fullness like
A leopard a pattern in the grass.

Hunt my beastful blush,
Lick the harmony of my breasts.

What can she sing with her lips
Pursed in kiss?

Her butt a lush earth,
Her waist the willfulness of tornadoes,
Her soft belly bread
Baked in the Parisian dawn.

It is the ritual of her hands hunting me,
The reminds me that pleasure rhymes
With guilt.

Woman to Woman



Her hair is so cool.
The bridge of her lips I consider straddling.
In the sweet musk of human frailty,
I rollick like a ship to sea
When she gazes at me,
Knife to meat,
Erosion to beach,
Destruction was never so complete.
Spread open like an unread book,
I am searched –
My ecstasy excavated,
Preserved in her skin,
Dissolving on her tongue.

Black Sex

Black sex sings like a siren against my white sheets.
What quilted questions can I answer,
With my tongue lodged in your pink lips,
While the sadomasochistic sunlight slinks slowly
Through blue blinds?

Woman as Kingdom

His height like the distance between me and the universe

musculature spicy beneath my hands.

Take me over,

woman as Kingdom to command,

woman as Empire to be appeased with bread and circuses.

Chocolate syrup and heating pads are bread.

Deftly his fingers will do stunts beneath the canopy of my dress.


Her unhurried sex voice scrounges

for an ear to curl up in.

I officiated at a wedding of vagabonds and

was paid in grape soda.

So many illicit desires swirl and eddy under my face.

hot Roman sex beckons behind screens.