pelvis

mew mew
the reflection of
your sweet girlie
dew

the image of you
walking away
while wrapped
in my arms

looking on
to what we are

entangled desire

and how euphoric
when your soul
returned to your
flexing curves

that i scrambling upon
to your intimate trail

bushwhacking
to your big cat
stretch

you have
memory days
and i have
them as well

and we

have calendars to fill
with the future

of trembling hips

bézier

o
so blasé

i know what
temptation is

and i can see
desire like it
was yesterday

i don’t need a
protractor to
trace the arch

but seduction
is vague and
i have just enough

for a composite sketch

red lips and green vision

it’s not the curve
but the intent

and the imagination
is so much more valuable
than vocabulary

2.0

i wish to enter you
into my view

with me behind
and a silvery reflection
before us

to add content

to speak of a wiggle
that is sexy when you walk
and intoxicating when it
is pressed against me

sly

and the lecherous
giggle

to experiment
to deconstruct

and retreat to common
comfort

cuddle cuddle and
flip the turnbuckle

into a swan dive into
of your libido liqueur

hold you

you
hold
on
to
the
fine line of desire

i
will
steal
joy
from
the curves of your hips

we
will
share
the
dreams
that
float
through tactile delight

au-juice

i’m flowing in juice

that travels
like an unspoken for
bicycle

a stream of dribles

share the cupcakes
let me lick the frosting

crunch the snow
under the foundation

long for the bedpost
shackles
holding me

to your hips

like the chinese water
torture oozing desire

like very tabloid and
juicy images of you

unfold the simplicity
of your kiss

and the complexity
of your throat

the stream of conscious
that whispers across
my flesh

like a ball-peen
silk camisole

coarse grind

my new favorite
is the coffee press

started by
a spark from tesla

milling the java
steaming the water

because knuckling down
is seemingly intimate

wrapping my hands
around the curves

girl fluent dribbling
along my cheek

slurping up the
snake oil

slowly slipping into
adrenaline

and slithering out of
the morning attire

       if i had a nichel for every time

i am three cents into yesterday
my libido is fickled, but not forgotten

i have snowshoes and a kayak
autumn is my favorite

when it gets really cold you leave
the cupboard doors open

art is foreplay, poetry the back story

your hips have no list

press coffee

lust comes at me
like a tumblr feed

winter is holding down green
fuchsia is blushing excitement

i dream a start
i hold the thread
throughout the day

coarse grind

wouldn’t a nap
after a big breakfast
after a whole lot of intimacy

be worth
it’s weight
in orgasms

i would be

a prisoner of
your striped panties

lost in how they conform
to the action
of your excitement

flexing elastic
that cam make me
dance like a phallus
on a string

let me roll with
the hunches and
serve all your haunches

i would be obedient detainee
a hostage to overachieving
and underpants

but all is good as i dream
of gorging myself on desire
and delight

rolling off the lingerie
into a foreplay omelet

flipping scenarios
in a fry pan coated
in lewd lubrication

        thumbs up

stirring the excitement
digits filling the desire

it is better than raw
romance

mixing the melange
of juicy joy

taking the opposable thumb
into a harmonic, gliding
frenzy

using like thickness to excite
your kettle and heat
the macaroni

working from o boy
to o god
and the devine
pleasure of your
throbbing thighs

in that prelude
that is know as

the night of passion

     if you were my neighbor

i would borrow and ice cube

in return you would never need
to look for someone to put spf-45
on your back

i would watch your dog
and bring in your mail

i would pay you back with a leg rub
when you return from a run

plying you with languid adjectives
about you calves

if we shared a fence you would be invited
to a private block party complete
with pinot grigio and grilled chicken breasts

in exchange for your ice
i would offer you a gin & tonic
and let the liquid do its duty

i would pull your leg over mine
as we sat on the glider, on the front porch
letting the frozen water click together
in a blue glass

if we lived side by side

there would be a summer night
hot and sticky like tonight

i would turn on the window fan
and sprinkle fermented juniper
on your belly then push the dribbles
to your breasts with my tongue

and you would know
i was very grateful for your generosity