Leadership

Stare into their souls
Nurture to magnificence
Grasping their true being

A kind of love story

Two sets of legs
Intertwine.
Caressing gently.
Passion, absent
Love.

Hard skin
Rattles against
Touch.
Consummation
Culminates
With consumption,
Destruction of one.

Each pair of legs
Re-divides, eight
Alone again.

Within the heart

Strange torturous song
Delight, anguish born anew
Without it we die.

Evening

Upon evening’s curves
Attention drifts longingly
Over her dark eyes

Views upon belovedness

Strange word, love. 
Which means so very much,
Blend of similar emotions.
 
Often born out of lust,
That short term burst,
Energy, focus, easy flow,
From delight to boredom. 

At times I wonder the themes 
Of those transitions from lust
To love. Where the dream passes
From self gratification to delight 
In that other, the beloved’s joy
More glorious than sunlight. 
Life giving, freeing, beyond 
Emptiness. Perfection.  

Carpe diem

For some, “seizing the moment”
Involves a death grip.
Hold that moment forever
Or until it’s torn from our
Grasping, finite fingers.

I seek, simply, to be fully in
Each moment. To savor each
Second dearly. Taste each piece
And fully know it, before it
Collapses into the vaporous
Collective of memory.

Risking Connection

Daring to connect
To talk, touch, love.
Riding the embrace
Of human connection.

Perhaps feel humiliation’s
Terrible burn, of hearts
Betrayed, of confidences
Flung open into the wide
Abyss of public view.
Cruelty amassed.

Fearlessly facing such,
Diving headfirst into dark
Mist must seem mad
Yet, it’s the realm of vulnerability
Where real love becomes
Manifest.