My Love: V: The Flow of Sap

My Love,

the flow of sap with its assuring breath, a cluster of green bursting with warm roots and fresh spray of spent desire, and in the slow avalanche of evening the darkness surrounds and with moist lips and probing tongue i found you, buried in loam beneath sheets of leaves and tender moss,

and the spring rose in your mouth and heavy eyes dark and flashing rumbled the horizon purple, and your womb contracts and heaves in the dark moist earth and you push forth seeds and sprouts as the sharp dew caresses and your green breath  fills the morning and awakes my lips.

my love, the day is fire, and you are a sharp sting of grapes and flowers, you fill me with the taste of bees and and tangle of unfurled ivy and there sweetness burns me and my mouth wounded closes around the flowers of the day.

and your swollen lips move on, with the traveling of light across a bed of stone to embrace  the swelling urgency  of my hips, your earthy vines bind me, stings my mouth and i stumble in uncertainty with the heat of the earth.

my love, you stagger then kneel at the  rustling stream  slaking my thirst and soothing the cuts and wounds of my mouth, and your spring rain soaked me through and i step into the capricious water, then sit drowsily in the forgiving moss till your rain swells the stream, and i am towed to your source.

My Love: IV: Light of Your Hands

                                           art by  godwithdan
   




my love,                                                                            

the light of your hands swaddle me, and carry me slumbering into the the depths of your eyes,
and into the fires beneath flesh and stone, to the heat that is churning the massive wheels of the universe.

in the pull of spring your nourishing fingers find me, i was lost in the wilderness of an endless horizon, and i longed to travel the petals of your flesh to dance in the cool shade and budding leaves of your curves and moist center. uncharted, i longed to wander the gardens and vineyards of your flesh,

then when the broiling clouds, dark and savage entomb me, you find me and lift me with a shine that births tides, and delivers me from the gales that batter and devour.

my love, the radiant waves of your body salts the stars across the harsh darkness, and i  a lost voyager grasps  your silver breath and scattered constellations to carry me from desolation to the succulent red earth of your garden.

My Love: III: The Weight of Rain

my love,

the water and rain weigh me down, i tried to hold you, to touch your breasts, but you were a drop of glistening dew, that held the earth, a clear drop left from the secret encounter of dark and sun,

i thirst for you, for the wine that lingers in fist fulls of dark grapes that sing of earth and warmth, i hunger to be nourished, to have my ache for you filled by the droning of bees and by the splash and babble of swift rivulets that rub smooth the bones of earth, and seek in there passion the vast salt sea, that calls, that sings, that siren that can not be denied. i long to be nourished by your milk and blood, and the clear dew of when dark and sun encounter.

my love, the weight of rain pulled me to my knees, pulled me to the rich thick mud, filled me with blood and seeds, and the rain fed the earth with its secrets, and drew from the mud the mystery of breasts and blood and milk, and the final mystery of the briefest of encounters of dark and sun, as my thirst throbs to be quenched by the wine of your breasts.

My Love. II. Beginning

my love,

your beginning is full of the pungent taste of moss, and the consuming sting of salt, you become the glow of the moon that rides the mystery of birth from the foam of tides, to the whispers of the darkness that filled my lips before there was a desire for you.

i tumble to your darkness trailing the promise of stars, bound to the roots of rock and tree, i voyage to the unfolding of the one mystery of tide and blood. the ache of salt blinds my eyes, as the air of my hands grasps the raging sea of you,

my love,

in the crash of waves on stone and in the lick of flames in air, i lose myself in the musk of your origin, the voyage that is flesh falls into the agony and mist of your mystery that is the clash of earth and air, and i voyage to your unfolding as my hands travel the currents of your flesh tracings paths to the one mystery, as the soft dew of your desire rages the flame of beginnings,

and out of the darkness you arise gleaming from the curve of the world, stretching the blue horizon with the green of your eyes, and the world finds renewal as your tide devours the rocky shore,

and the sun streams down crusting salt on rocks and the world turns with the tug of tides and blood.

From Stone, to Salt, to Sea.

I used to catch you in my hands

cup my palms

and roll you between fingers
slowly till you were

swollen with the warmth of me.

But now my hands wander

an empty wilderness of

streams and deep earth,

they journey unfamiliar territory
of breathing forests and savage desire.

so now they linger in the failing

light eventually escaping into

the darkening sky.

Once when my hands

Spoke your name gently

with knowing, stumbling 

fingers unbuttoned you,

pulled the shawl from your fragile shoulders.

Peeling away the layer

of air to find stone, then

salt, finally sea, till my hands

in hunger tasted

you, and filled their aching mouth

with your brine.

my hands traveled

the distance of you and in

their solitude fuse with the swell of your

breasts, drinking their

firm warmth and rolling the

stiffness of your passion

between questioning fingers,

Until we turned to stone

and plummet through the

still air,

and we roll together and

find the stillness

that inhabits stone.

And for a millennium

in the calm of time

we slumber entangled

fused by heat and silence

so in eternity we move from
stone to salt,

and the tang sears

the wounds of my hands

and falls into the bruise of my

mouth,

the sting of you shocks me.

You surge washing the brine from my mouth

then grow from salt to water,

and fill my eyes and hands

with your motion.

And again I become hands,

and cup you in the twilight

of my passing,

and in the futility of flesh

in the inevitable passing of  hands

you travel through my fingers,

and as you fill me with your absence

I turn from hands , to stone, to salt, to sea,

till loss drinks  the dimming day

and in the end sea and salt

devours  all.

My Love: I. You Are The Taste Of Flowers

my love,

you are the taste of flowers, the scent of rain and sun when the wind finds you and binds your lips to mine.

your eyes stitched to the gentle touch of my hand as i tangle my limbs in the history of your hair.  the gold of your skin swallows the sun and through your eyes stars part as dark broiling clouds with jagged slashes of silver fill the pool of your hips and the shock of thunder pounds my body with the tides of you being.

your mouth takes me as the aurora of earth and days clings to the hope of hands that in the silents remembers the burning suns of your skin as the heat of morning rises from you shimmering in the air as the world emerges from you. you convulse and push forth the day. your hands gather in the streams of air and slivers of water, and bind my bones to you with the kiss of your skin and the lips of your voice.

my love, the escaped gold of your body finds the hard curve of the moon and with limbs liquid and smooth you sift the night into me as the fingers of your lust captures stars. your rising heat bundles your silver breasts to lay upon my willing tongue

the trembling hope of your thighs mouth the darkness from me and i spill the milky heavens across you, and the full moon claims you with willing breasts as the tremble of your lips seeks to find redemption and rest in the shadows of my mouth.

I Who Know You

I who know you

beyond the drift

of days and the loss

of silver light still reside

in the hollow of my

now collapsed chest.

Astray and longing for the

unfolding of the world,

an unraveling, calling

the names, each by each,

until the tongue

swells with use,

and the lies in my

mortal life, taint my 

meager history,

drifting in the

upheaval of time, and

sea, I am spent, still

the victim of currents

in a shoreless world,

Bobbing and rolling as the winds, 

spice scented, 
ambiguous as your pelt

pushing this frail

bone, from now to then.

I bewildered between your ever tilting

poles, lost in the unspooling

of the world

that spills your words

into the sucking sound

of deceit and despair.

The drifting grows

inevitable till

the running down of

sand and water

leads to the worm

infested flesh,

my tears of passage

burns the driving world

and I to embers.