BRIAN

As far as I can remember, the first love poem I ever wrote.

Earlier that day
my head had been cluttered with thoughts,
Thoughts of my beloved and I
watzing across the ballroom floor,
when they had been intruded upon by images,
images of my love kissing her as I wept.
And a silent tear ran down my cheek
as I realized who he really loved.

He was a big crush in Jr. High School...very popular. I just about die laughing when I read these ultra-cheezy poems I wrote about him....*snort*

You look at me
yet you don't see
the way I feel.
It's very real.
I hear your voice
and I see your face,
I wish you knew
yet that's not the case.
To you I'm unknown,
just a face in the halls,
yet so many times I've wanted to give you a call.
to say how I love you
and all the reasons why.
To say what I feel for you
and I'd never say goodbye.
I wish you knew who I was
but that's impossible because
you would laugh in my face,
you would make me cry.
So that is why,
you shall never know my name.

That face, that voice, those eyes,
I can't see why it's any suprise
that I'm in love with you.
That mischevious little smile
is what made me look your way.
Now it makes my heart melt
every single day.
Tell you how I love thee?
Let me count the ways!
There are not enough stars in the sky
nor birds that can fly,
nor leaves that will slowly flutter down
as you pass by.
I love everything about you,
from the tip of your nose
to all ten of your toes.
Friends scoff when I sigh
as you walk by,
because I know you could never love me,
as time goes by.

MATT

Oooh, Matt. A giant High School crush until my best friend dated him. He grew up to be really nasty, so I'm really embarassed I ever had a crush on him! Ug!

Sooner or later
he'll come into your life.
Whether it's across the street
or at the corner store
But wherever it is,
once you meet,
your life will never be the same.
He'll occupy your thoughts -
Day or night.
The sight of him is heaven,
his touch is ecstacy.
Your eyes linger where he stands,
and trail his every move.
Your will his handsome face
to rest on yours
and when it does,
you cry out your silent pledge
of eternal love.
But his face moves on
and deep inside,
you beging to weep.

Late at night,
as I wander down the halls of my mind,
every door that I open, you're there.
That georgeous smile peers out at me
through the crack in the doorway.
Your blue eyes tell me the door's ajar.
When I swing it open,
there you stand.
Tall, important, majestic
and I can mold you into any dream I wish
When I wake,
I burst into tears,
and you face fades as my mind
deadbolts the door.
Never letting you out
till once more I saunter down the way
with the magic key of love.

Heaven.
That's what I'd call his touch.
Where his hands lingered,
angelic delight tingled.
Where his hands touched -
nothing could be more wonderful.
As if his hands
had washed away all other feelings.
Days later,
I can still feel his arms
sliding across my shoulders,
and that hug that made me want to die,
there in his arms.

Do you know those angelic statues
that seem to be everywhere?
Well,
that is what he looks like.
And golden waves of grain,
or the sun itself
could not be as golden as his hair.
And his broad, firm shoulders
and strong arms
that fit so well around me.
His piercing blue eyes,
and ivory skin's touch
sends shivers up my spine.
I love him
and to me, he is life.

I think his godliness blinds me.
I know he must have faults,
yet, when he's near me,
I cannot see anything but
his golden hair
his intense blue eyes
his lofty height
and his startling personality,
that makes the best of everything.
I desire his long, powerful arms to encircle me
and ever let me go.
I crave his crimson lips' touch
and his exquisite eyes' glance.
I worship him with all my heart.

Blue eyes,
blonde hair,
such love,
I can't bear.
Deep in my heart
a love so strong
burns and glows
a whole life long.
with every joke he cracks
and every move he makes
the hungry flame grows
and my desire awakes.
My desire awakes.

You wanted to get rid of the tension?
Ha!
What a joke.
I know you feel it.
The tension is growing
along with my love for you.
How stupid you must be
to give me another hug.
I love you with all my heart.
I watch your every move,
though you don't know it.
My body yearns for your touch once more,
My ears hunger for your voice to speak my name.
On and off you turn my emotions with your motions.
Are you really so naieve to think things are fine?
Can't you feel my pain?
Well, trust me, I hurt.
I cannot eat.
I cannot sleep.
I realize this isn't your fault,
and yet, in a way, it it.
One day you treat me like a sister,
the next, an enemy.
Please make up your mind so my life can go on.

Why are you so nice?
I am trying to break this habit,
yet, when you act so lovable,
how can I get unhooked?
Most guys would be nice,
but to tell me you want to be "good friends"
and then hug me?
What can I say,
I'm hooked for life.
I love you.

I still love him.
God! What a mistake.
My love is so strong, it overwhelms me.
The pain is undescribable.
All I can think is
why Meghan and not me?
Why is she so special?
Will I ever be special?
God!
I wish I hated you.
Then, I could go on with my life.
Then I could love another.
Do you realize this?
Do you realize that I would be anything for you?
You are my life.
Why did god give you all these traits at once?
Do you see how you hurt me?
No, I guess you don't.
You can't.
People have always said what a great actress I am.
I wish I wasn't.
Then, I wouldn't be able to
be so cheerful on the outside
while I die on the inside every time you touch her.
Then maybe you would understand.
Then, maybe you too would love.
But for now,
I just have to go on
acting out my charade
an endless performance of lies.

I love you...
I have to admit it.
Yes!
Then I can deal with this overwhelming problem.
I don't want to love -
I don't!
Girlfriends are stepping stones to you
(how I yearn to be tread on)
You are an actor superb
(how I long to be your leading lady)
How I long to be yours!
I love you.
And you know it.
This is your worst crime.
You know it.

Why do you do this to me?
You seem to ignore my existence on this earth.
Yet, I see your glances.
How can you torture me this way?
I love you, yet I pretend I dont.
For your sake.
You could at least be my friend,
or say hello instead of shunning me.
Why do you do this to me?
What have I done to deserve this?
Talk to me!
Tell me your pain,
your fears.
Let me help you,
and most of all,
please please
once again
let us be friends.

I thought ignoring you would help our relationship.
It didn't.
At first, you looked hurt.
Then,
the ignoring was returned.
Why do you hurt me so?
I am in so much pain.
My life is filled with your love,
your unreturned love.
It has been almost two months -
two months of tears and anguish.
I know nothing could come out of our friendship
I'm not trying to make you love me.
It just hurts so.
I want revenge.
I want you to hurt.
You think everything is hunky-dorey
yet, eegods! Can't you tell?
Don't you see the misery in my eyes?
Don't you hear the torment in my voice?
Well, trust me, it's there.
I cannot eat.
I cannot sleep.
All I can do is cry my sorrowful tears.

DAVID

My Davyboy. I had a crush on him from eigth grade all through high school and beyond. I eventually decided it was love. We had a very unique friendship. He's probably the only male I ever really loved. During college and afterwards, my cheezy love poems turned into what I called rants. These rants about David are probably some of my favorite things I've ever written.

Recently,
I was reminded of you.
A friend mentioned your name and
deep in my stomach,
something twisted and turned.
What an ache!
As if my heart was bruised all over.
And every time you come near me,
I soon remember -
Love hurts.

When lonely I dispute, is love a blessing or a curse?
In my confusing life it only makes grave matters worse.
I love him, he loves none and no one cares for me.
and when I hear how great love is, this I just can't see.
It seems to terrorize my life and melts away in shame.
I get so frazzled when I'm near love, my voice it seems to maim.
My brain turns off, my body gets numb and I start to shake.
Then, later on, i feel so dumb my life I want to take.
Who invented love?Where did it come from?
I'm sure whoever invented it now feels pretty dumb.
To come up with something that hurts people so.
How could someone do this, didn't they know?
But then, I'm near him and he's kind to me.
I feel like I've never felt before - my heart's filled with glee.
In my messed up life, this one thing stands out
It's more intoxicating than any drug - love's what life's about.
How can there be depressions? How can there be wars?
When you feel the effects of love, you're not poor anymore.
You can live on love, it's a natural high.
I couldn't live without love - but don't ask me why.
When lonely I dispute, is love a blessing or a curse?
In my confusing life, it only makes grave matters worse.
I love him, he loves none and no one cares for me.
And when I hear how great love is...I just have to agree.

Lonliness
closing in.
The clock,
it strikes three AM.
I think of you,
and my heart breaks
forever yours.

Why do I feel so alone
now that you are gone,
when you were never a part of my life to begin with?
Why do I feel like you've asked for your heart back
when you never gave it to me in the first place?
Why do I love you so much?
Four years of wanting you,
dreaming of you,
loving you,
and not having you.
Four years of wishing you loved me,
wondering if you even thought of me once in awhile.
Four years of uncurable pain deep in my heart.
When Matt was in my heart, so were you.
When Meghan was in my heart, you greeted her at the door.
And when Clay temporarily resided there,
you collected the rent.
You're the longest resident that I've ever had
and still
you never loved me
but glanced longingly at another.

STARVATION
I hunger for physical contact
I crave it.
But no one touches me,
No one hugs me,
no one kisses me.
I am starved for physical touch
I long to commit the act of touch.
and you are not afraid or unwilling to
hug me and hold my hand.
You feed my hunger,
and I am satisfied,
but only briefly.
I am starved for so long between encounters with you that nothing
could ever satisfy my hunger.
So I am never fulfilled.
I am so afraid that one day you will not be nearby,
therefore, I will not be fed.
And I will die of starvation.
It is inevitable,
but I am still scared for the day to arrive
because I will die of starvation.

It begins with an L.
Long ago,
across a brick planter, your eyes searched for something in vain
What was it?
Next comes the O
On the desk you sit beside me and kick them off. I'll stretch the void for a hug.
Would you?
After that, the V.
Velvet words pour out of your head. We had almost reached Oz. Had the answer been different, would we be there now?
Why did you have to ask the question?
It must always end with an E.
Even now, your lullabys send me towards dream-land. Crouch low in the grass and say the words before Ed enters.
Has it all been a lie?
Or have we formed a word?

DS/RANT/5-93

Stomach gurgling distraction
vampyres peanut butter wafting
smells, lingering tastes arms felt
later than expected love stomach
pain, opening opening dripping lust
deep, confusion skin feeling feeling
pressure, circumfrence, lips Art hair
smoke, opening pain trips blood
teeth strawberries constrict mirrors
fling lights offer fear love hair
earrings ed, drip constrictor, 2
colors meanings, deep breath,
nose flairs, toes curl,
constrict friction fists sleep dream
smell hippiehouse, pressure
trust, armskeys talk eyes drop
always there legs under wet,
emotions. HOPE.

DS/RANT/1-95/ED

Your smooth stroking compliments
caress my body and make me feel alive and worthy,
even though I don't understand
why you care enough to make me nervous.
You made me wary with your intensity,
but then you knelt down in front of me,
crouching above me like I was your prey,
and showed me what to do.
And then I was grounded to the earth,
my body tingling.
Everything had to be at it's lowest point.
And as the earth swung on it's pendulum,
holding me close to it's breast,
you mesmerized me with song.
I sat watching with my eyes closed
as a rainbow filled outline of you
rippled and shifted to the haunting, erotic notes
which left disintegraiting trails of color behind,
wiggling to the vibrato.
Your masculine warmth clouded around my circumfrence
and I felt I could lean back into you
falling forever towards safety and love
as we were transformed into ancient rituals,
your body engulfing mine
and our smells mingling.
My atoms felt the heat and mass of your nearness
and they desperately wanted to explore your finger's
fleshy folds and contours,
but you never took my hand.
Are you oblivious to the curves which mark me female?
The intensity of your body so close to mine
pushed a quick breath of reality
into my gravity-filled existence
and I found myself repeating those
ego-caressing words you once said to me:
you are a part of my soul.
You are a part of my soul and
I want you to hold me in your arms.
I want to nestle into your shoulder.
I want you to take my hand and hold it,
feeling it's knuckles and
textured parchment coverings.
I want you to take the initiative
and be the strong one
and be safety and security and love.
I want to be free to shrink into a little girl,
needing to hold someone's hand to cross the street,
instead of being the hand
leading someone on to the safe way.
I want to be the inside spoon.
I want you to worship me the way I worship you.
You used to once upon a time.
Do you still?

DS/RANT/12-95/HETEROGIRL

Girlfriends past and present
Someone seems to have cast me
as Ebineezer Scrooge
in this sick, twisted little tale,
but I don't remember accepting the role.
Gee,
Maybe your future wife is here tonight, too.
I try so fucking hard
to get you to see me as a woman
but you can't.
Or you won't, I don't know which.
I spend the money and the time.
I walk the walk
and talk the talk,
doing everything Cosmo would tell me to do
and yet
Nothing.
Are you really that oblivious?
Or do you just not give a shit about me?
I want to cry.
No.
I want to get up and tell you to go fuck yourself
and storm out in a cloud of fury.
But you're so cluelessly male,
you wouldn't even understand.
You said
"I only say those things to you."
when I accuse you of being a smooth talker.
Well, if I choose to believe this,
it begs the question, "Why?"
Why only me?
God!
You looked so hot in that leather jacket!
Don't you know what I'm giving up by loving you?
What I've had to compromise on?
This sickening little heterogirl role
pulls away at my essential self
and makes me feel so ashamed
(High Femme, she said,
but it was never supposed to be for a man)
Nevertheless, I play the part
and you don't even have the courtesy to notice.
I wrote another poem once,
about how you were not afraid to touch me,
so my hunger was satisfied for brief periods.
But you don't touch me anymore.
And now, I'm so weak from the starvation
I'm afraid I'll eat our friendship up
in a last ditch effort to ease the hunger pangs
(cannibalism at it's worst)
Looking back, I think you loved me once,
when we were in Oz.
I wish every day that
you could take back what you asked me
so I could take back what I said.
If I had answered no, would things be different?
Or do you really not love me?
Do you really never dream of kissing me?
Do you really never dream of touching me?
If so,
then what the hell am I to you?

MEGHAN

Meghan was my first true female love. Loving her was what made me realize I was a lesbian. It started in High School and didn't end until after college sometime, when she'd changed so much the person that I was in love with wasn't there anymore.

Gone,
and yet not.
My love is a parallel line to your presence.
When you were gone
so was my love.
And now that you have returned...
but have you really returned?
Or are you a mirage?
You toss aside all laws of life and death,
acting as you did before...before you died.
You play these games with my mind that I can recognize
and yet, I happily take part in them.
Then, when I'm alone,
I curse you for being you.
You are so conniving that I don't know if these games
are planned or involuntary.
Part is involuntary, I know.
You cannot help being how you are.
But it seems worse than I remember.
I want to love you again.
I do love you again.
Why couldn't you stay dead?

Candlelight casts shadows across the altar of hope.
My eyes strain against the feeling of being bloated
and my legs ache,
as if to remind me of my foolishness.
My brain struggles to be released from the cloud
that I am floating about my room on.
In.
I am inside the cloud and my voice sounds misty and drugged.
I persist, but I cannot hang up the phone.
It is my one link to you
and every thought that I utter into your ears
leaves my tongue with wings of possibilities.
The ceiling and the wall have a chance meeting in the corner
and my silent screams of lonliness echo from within.
I let my eyelids fall
and I drift away.
Cool but not cold.
Moist but not wet.
Your voice attempts to push past the bulky flesh of our past
and into my thoughts,
but I try to overt you from the path to my pain.
I burned all the maps
and now I'm your personal tour guide.

RED
Fire-rage
burning inside me.
Passion - hatred
burning me up.
Anger - love
pounding desire
Power and pain
why won't it stop?

What is happening here?
Our friendship is blooming again
(so far, no thorns)
I hope this time it is a hearty clemson bush
that will hold up through rainstorms.
But on the same limbs that grow those familiar favorites,
a new bud has emerged.
It's not like any flower we've ever seen before -
not together, at least.
It's petals are as creamy as your skin
and they are streaked down the middle with the dark brown threads of your hair.
It appears to be very beautiful,
and every day, as soon as I get home,
I run to it to see if it has blossomed.
But it hasn't. Not yet.
I feed it different things every day,
but it won't respond to any of the things I try.
It sits there amidst the fireworks of the blooming clemsons
waiting for me to figure out it's secret.
And when I do,
I hope and pray that it will flourish there
right inbetween the blooming clemson.

Come to me and be my friend.
I just want all my pain to end.
Friends have been so sparce of late
it makes me wonder of my fate.
Why are you so cruel to me?
What have I done to make you flee?
I need support and compassion not hostility.
I know I'm not perfect - no one has that ability.
I need the love only a friend like you can give.
Going without this love is just no way to live.
I'm trying to get you back with all my might.
I won't give you up to him without a fight.
You really hurt me how you flaunt him about.
At least you truely like him, on that I have no doubts.
But I loved you first and I'm sure I'll love you last.
I forgave you this long ago, to me it's in the past.
Often, I admit, I seem far away.
Sometimes I'm cruel, but I don't mean what I say.
So whatever message I may send,
please come to me and be my friend.
When once again the sun doth shine
and every day turns out just fine.
All my scars you shall then mend
when you come to me and are my friend.

How can we be friends?
You have everything I want
especially memories of him -
memories I desire and yearn for.
You are everything I wish to be
cunning, intelligent, beautiful, funny
you even feel okay about your past
while I have to live in the past to survive
no matter how painful it is.
You decide to do things on the spur of the moment
and achieve excellence at whatever it may be.
while I've worked at it my whole life
and haven't even acheived greatness.
You always seem to be
the opposite side of the magnet -
attracting everyone that crosses your path,
while I'm the same side,
forever repelling most that I come in contact with.
Then there are the billions and billions of little things,
that,
standing alone,
seem trifles,
yet, all together
become deadly to my existance.
Color me green!
Of course, I'm jealous,
but you would be too.

MY SECRET
It hurts to keep this from you.
I know you would understand,
but things would be different,
you wouldn't trust me.
Your small fling was a mistake,
a tear in reality.
Your fling was my life.
It hurt so much that it wasn't me,
but then that makes me ill.
Over the years, the urges
have quieted down,
but what am I?
I know I'm normal,
but at times....
Are my feelings reality
or just a phase?
I don't want to hurt.
Please...go away.

Living without you
why do I live?
How can I live
when you are my life,
my everything?
I love you.
What have I done?
Why do you ignore me?
It hurts so much.
God!
The pain.
The undescribable pain
of not being in your eyes
of not being in your heart
of not being in your life -
so I desperately try to end mine.
But I can't.
Damn you!
I can't.

My love lies dormant in my heart,
hybernating in the frozen wasteland of lonliness
but your eyes kindle a fire
that melts me every time.
Help me, someone.
I am melting,
and cannot be remade.
The mold was broken just yesterday.

I am so confused.
What are my true feelings?
Do I love you
or am I in love with the idea,
the image of loving you?
You have told me such things were unheard of
You could never live that way.
And if the desirable were to happen,
I would never forgive myself.
A certain magic in our friendship would dissapear
the moment our lips touched.
But your voice brightens my day.
Your eyes mirror my yearning
but the mirror is cracked and broken on your side
so you cannot see through
into my soul
where you reside.
The slightest bump electrifies me
and a symphony erupts in my heart
every time you confide in me.
Our seemingly innocent friendship has been burnt to ashes
by the fire burning inside me,
but is it a spark or an inferno?

Reality
plays the harshest of tricks.
Fantasy can be so much friendlier.
I can fantasize about your loving touch,
your kind words,
your passionate kisses....
while reality gives me a blow to the heart
that leaves an immortal bruise.

Sometimes
when I sit in my big red plaid lounge chair
and listen to my somewhere in time tape
over and over
neverending
on my cheap little Sony walkman,
I imagine what it would be like
to be held lovingly in your arms.
You can hear the utterly mournful waves come crashing in
onto the smooth isolated rocks where we make love.
The pain of the sinful moment's unreality shatters my heart.
I sometimes dream of you,
sitting,
as you often do,
only a few feet away -
our legs or hands touching.
A violin solo pulls at my mind
telling me it's wrong. It shouldn't be.
That I'd be happiest without you.
But what do violinists know?
Nothing.
Nothing of my love.
The piano plays my love out to the world,
striking each note, however painful it may be.

CLAUDETTE

Claudette was this messed up chick that pretended to have an interest in me for about five seconds in High School. I never really cared that much about her, but for some reason, I was very prolific when writing cheezy angst peotry about and for her. *shrug*

How do you make a clay poem?
(I sit here with a pottery wheel in sight, ready to examine my feelings)
More to the point,
how do you make a poem of clay
when you haven't any clay?
When you never will have any clay?
How do you know if it's smooth to touch
or salty to taste?
Why heat up the kiln
when there's nothing to fire?
Why risk burns,
often too deep to heal,
when you know it's safer
so much safer,
to keep it cold?
Because, so often in life,
the coldest places are the lonliest.

Dusk.
A pale green moon is on the rise
full of romantic potential.
Beyond the moss-covered stone bridge
you appear
resting against the trunk of a weeping willow tree.
Moonlight drifts across the darkening pond,
and illuminates your beautiful face.
I try to memorize every feature.
We float towards each other
as if we were pulled by some unseen force.
Closer,
and closer still we get
until I can rest my hand on the cold stones of the bridge.
Our footsteps echo in the growing darkness.
My heartbeats quicken and I anticipate
the sensation of your skin touching mine
and my footsteps keep time with my heart, so
sooner than expected, we reach each other.
But an invisible barrier keeps us apart.
Fear, then panic enters my eyes as I realize that
if I don't get to you soon, you will turn away
and I will have lost you forever.
Barely audable, I wisper my only hope
"I love you"
then louder,
I LOVE YOU!"
The intensity of my spoken words shatters the barrier
and we embrace.
Having done it's job,
the moon moves on,
leaving us to our desires.

Sometimes I wonder if you ever loved me at all.
I know we were friends,
but why only friends?
You swore you could never sin on your true love,
so we would never be able to ...
to...
you know.
But now, you fool around with untold numbers
and amongst those untold masses is my one true love.
How could you lie to me?
You swore you would never hurt me,
but I know you are aware of my pain.
You ignore my existence
while you yip at the sensual heels of your other,
more physical love.
Well, what has happened to the friendship we once had?
Along with your love,
your friendship seems to have evaporated.

There we sat.
So close and yet so far.
And all the while,
I couldn't stop wondering if you knew
how I longed to give you my heart.
Wondering if you were refraining from the same urges I felt.
Wondering if you were thinking of me.
To be truthful,
you're one of the few to ever show an interest in my heart.
When I'm near you,
I don't ever want to leave your side,
And when I'm away from you,
well,
those are the hardest and most numerous times,
when I have to occupy my head with other,
less painful thoughts.
Wondering how,
HOW
could a god be so cruel as to give us these feelings
and yet make us unable to act on them?

I am too tired.
Too tired to deal with the onslaught of emotions I feel
knowing you love someone new.
I feel so used,
as if everything was a sick joke on me.
How could you do this to me?
I thought that we meant so much to each other.
Could I have been so naieve as to believe you felt something for me?
Okay, maybe you did.
What happened to make you stop loving me?
I didn't do anything.
Or is that it?
Should I have pushed you harder
to act out your wildest fantasies for me,
with me.
Did you know that I was willing?
It is beyond me how two people who felt so passionately
could ignore their feelings.
How?
HOW?
Explain it to me!
Because I am too tired to understand.
Sleep will let me escape to my dreams,
where we can finally be together.

How long does the pain last?
How much longer will it hurt to see your face?
Or rather, your chin?
I cannot look into those eyes.
I have to be strong
and if I look at you,
it would break down the wall I have built between us.
And how hard a wall it was to build!
Every stone took more strength than I thought I had
to put it in place.
I know it's not a great wall.
There are holes
and cracks
and lord knows it's not straight.
It's not even a good wall.
I know it could fall down on me at any second.
I try to patch it up
so I can't see you
but there's always another hole to make me cringe.
I love you so much,
and yet loving you means the death of everything I believe in.
You would endanger my very existence on this not so wonderful world.
But still, I love you.
Secretly.
I glance at you through the cracks
longing for your touch once again.
My salty tears fall like rain on the cow lillies
that surround me.
How I long to die
and lay deep beneath the cow lilies
that grow on my tears.

Will this actually happen?
Can what I've dreamed of for so long actually happen?
Why now?
What makes this moment in time so special?
Am I but a substitute for your real love?
I cannot let myself believe that.
I continually reassure myself,
telling myself that you really do love me,
that everything you said to me, you meant.
But how do I know that?
This could just be another one of your lies,
another one of your many lies.
Do I trust you,
and risk getting hurt again?
And what if this happens?
Will things be the same?
Or will we slowly drift apart
you, with my heart tied securely to your big toe?
Please,
reassure me.
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear....
tell me my prince charming has finally come
and whisk me away to your castle by the sea,
where I can make you happy,
singing ballads in the surf.

MICIA

Micia was a friend in college that I was in lust with, but I foolishly told her I was in love with her in the hopes of getting to kiss her. Instead, she ran screaming in the other direction :-) Ah, well....

The cat slinks on blistered feet down the alley
With or without a parachute she will stalk the night
and pounce on blood-spilled altars
to lap at the dead stains.
Dissapointedly, she cries out over what she covets -
the flowing life that was
(giventakengiventakengiventaken)
exchanged here.
White glints on peach pelts
and the purest love will reveal itself
before the dance is over.
Dance, my love, dance.
And before our sleeps pull us away,
we will be one.

MAUREEN - 7/14/92

The first girl I ever kissed. I was lonely, wanted a girlfriend, so we were for a summer before I went back to college. I never really felt anything for her, it was more a matter of convenience.

Mingled limbs
Act upon
Unexplored desires.
Romance begins as
Enya ends, and we
Embrace the silence,
Nude in it's vulnerability.
Memories of things alien
Yesterday tingle inside,
Forever mine, forever more.
Images from a darkened room
Return to my mind,
Secretly dreamy,
To tamper with my reality.

HOLLY

My first big love in College. I think it started out as lust, but by the end, I did love her very much. In a lot of ways, she was my dream woman...just not the whole evil, betraying part at the end :-)

My hand slides through your hair and I cannot breathe.
My eyelids fall in on themselves
and waves of desire roll through me.
My deepest parts open up upon the crashing waves
and ecstacy begins.
Please touch me. Anywhere.
Use your smooth hands to glide across my neck's sensitive parts
and smile when my toes tingle, my mouth hangs ajar and I begin to throb.
A smile pokes at my mouth with the knowledge that you probably don't know what you do to me.
Or do you? I am never quite sure.
My fingers barely float amongst the fine stuff at your nape
and your head falls back in mock passion.
But that passion is real to me.
This is as close as I will get to joining the club.
And I don't even want a long term membership -
I probably won't even use all of the equipment.
I just long to brush my lips
against your neck and make you shiver.
I want my hands to experience every inch of your skin.
I want to lay close to you and dangle my fingers on your throat,
so close you can't tell if they are touching or not.
I want to feel that pressure of your head as you push against my hand
and I want you to acknowledge it's passionate power.
I want you.
I want to kiss you in the kindest ways
and then leave you with bruises.
Yes, I want to mark you like so many others have done.
I want a part of you that only they have known.
I want you.
I want an intimacy deeper than friendship, but born of it.
I want to feel the pressure of your body forced against mine,
the stubble on your legs creating friction with mine,
your skin touching mine, your mouth touching mine.
I want you.
Yes, I want you.

EIGHT O'CLOCK

Pale flesh
trembling beneath my fingers.
Breathing pulls ragged at your stomach.
Your toes curl and my fingers move on,
glancing across twitching skin.
In and around your hair,
up and down your neck,
around and over your breasts.
We have to stop
before your coach turns into a pumpkin.
You draw my hand up to your lips,
kissing my palm.
You pull my fingers into your mouth,
in and out,
around and over
and bite the soft fleshy balls on my palm
harder and harder.
You motion me to safety
pull me close and kiss me
kiss me hard
and kiss me soft.
Our arms wander all over each other,
free to roam while our lips are occupied.
Then, you leave me in a whirl
of confusion and unfulfilled desire
and arrive the next day marked by his love.
Were you thinking of me when he marked you so?

My planetary orbit veers
towards the black hole of your flesh
It sucks me in,
sucks me close
and sets me up elliptical
in the shadow of your path.
The learned astrologers
all sit in their varnished studies
non-committally smoking their pipes
and chart our course
predicting and unpredicting
our eventual collision.
I rush towards you,
anticipating your touch,
your caress,
and I fall in,
collapsing into your milky-black depths.
And I fall in,
addicted to the moonglow
that shimmys off you.
And I fall in,
attracted close by the sensual
pulsation of your edges.
I fall in
and I am finally free to explode.

The thunderstorm of my desire
shoots electricity
through the atmosphere between us,
sending the hairs on my arm dancing
and a shiver down my spine.
Sparks rebound off your skin
creating a static cling that makes touching you a necessity.
Your flesh is my addiction,
my obsession.
Sliding my fingers over your jawbone
and down your neck
makes the stormclouds rush in cumulo-nimbus.
Grabbing into your hair
makes the rain pelt down.
My breathing blows a ragged breeze across the grass.
And all I want is one wet night
where lightening can strike us both.

PUSSYWILLOW TREES

My toothbrush is lonely.
See, you left this morning
and my apartment was transformed
from a place of laughter and delight
to a sparce, lonely half-lived collection of cheap rooms.
I tried to get rid of any evidence that you had been here,
so I wouldn't see it and remember.
But your abscence screams at me by it's conspicuousness.
The kitchen table flashes clean wood
bare wood.
Empty wood.
The futon is conspiritorily folded up
and arranged just so
and the shower stall is vacant.
There are no mugs of orange juice remains
sitting around on the counter.
Even the sink gleams empty and clean.
Even worse,
I learned how to drive to all these neat places
and how to use 1 and 2
but there's no one to go with.
There's no one to pick on,
or howl and meow with.
Or be silly with or lean up against.
So I keep crying a little cry
whenever I'm alone and it's quiet and still
and I have nothing to do but think
because my toothbrush is lonely
and there's no one left to drink the rest of the milk.