3:45 a.m. Pompeii


in the hours of sleep
you come to me
whisper secret longings
you know I share
your hands and lips
hunt my flesh
a nocturnal quest
for passion
pull and open
push and fill
make way to climb
inside the volcano
of my body
your need
quick and intense
calls to the deep
places in me
I can remain quiet
only so long
before my lust
erupts white-hot
burns us both to ash
in each other’s arms

Fancy of Flight


Her ebon wings scrawl
freedom across the sky
as a poet’s pen spins
ink into dreams,
as a blackbird cries
from his boundless soul
— and I stand rooted
an envious oak tree.
I mark her steep ascent,
read her lyrics through
twitching lips, as they
stain the cirrus page.
I’m unable to interpret
their underlying message.
an earthbound woman
— I’ve long forgotten
how to fly.


Image credit:  http://favim.com/image/207777/

Three Notes on Love


Sometimes love happens
in small ways
a smile
a touch
a conversation

Like a handful
of heart-shaped candy
a paper valentine
you’re offered something
to connect hearts
by a thin, red thread

If you’re willing
to risk
to trust
love blooms…
a cluster of petals
tinged with color

Sometimes love happens
in great big ways
a confession
a commitment
a lifetime

Like a forest
of hundred-year trees
a worldwide, forty-day rain
you find yourself
forever changed
bound to another
by thousands of crimson threads

For your willingness
to trust
even when
it wounds your soul
love soars…
a million feathers rise
ink-black on the wind
to write forever
across the sky

I’ve woven myself
a cloak of love
of countless
carmine spools
bright and warm

I wrap myself
against the winter
whisper a prayer
into the night

For lovers
down every road –
a song of gratitude
an incantation

May each of you ever
spin these threads
that bind us
may a handful
at the very least
lead you back
to me