Selfish

I want to share this, as a friend. But it's selfish of me - it would probably put me back if I read similar things from you (though don't let that discourage you). But our relationship was about beauty, and about words, and I want to keep these with you. So, I want to share this.

These three poems came to me very quickly but I do feel that they say what I wanted to, though they haven't given me a feeling of release, so perhaps they don't.

Enjoy, Caroline

Your warmth

We would go to yours
So the void doesn’t haunt me
Except sometimes
When it’s cold, like it was that night
Then I crave your warmth
And my bed is a desert

In the night


What circadian rhythm, what chemical release

That, like clockwork, stirs us from our slumber

With heat where there had only been warmth

I turn and drape my arm over you

You shuffle sideways into my lap, just touching

The heat radiates

 

What circadian rhythm, what chemical release

Triggers, like clockwork, this exhilarating routine


K.I.

 

From the veranda, we hear the ocean

You sit on the railing

I face you, standing between your legs

I lift you up and take you into the house

Inside, we rock together like the waves

We're dancing, responding to touch and motion

Deepening our bond

This has beauty

But we’re driven onwards, pulled by conveyor belt

Inside you, I’m constrained

We're disjointed, unequal

Pleasure, but not beauty

 

Now we’re apart, and it’s the rocking that I miss

The touch, the response

My golden-skinned canvas

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