Wednesday, December 18, 2013


I will be a 72 degree day at 3 o'clock in October
Lying against you like Levi 501's
With one oval warm spot on the back of your right thigh where my hand fits
Underneath your leg
I will be sunshine warmly speckled & brilliant on the weathered wood floor
As wind whips & shimmers the maple outside
I will be a bike ride sleek & silent ...
  beating back the wind like a 13 year old superhero named Lilly Alabaster
I am music coming from around the corner, down the hall . .
Music that hits the sternum,
Scooping straight to the heart and reaching down, down
  and grabbing a hold of
your core,
your sex.
always music . . . .
I will be sheets cotton-cool-crisp that toss & invite
  and I will be rain pounding, pounding down intense & grey
With a thunder-green growing scent rising. . .
I will not for one minute forget the sureness of an embrace or the roller coaster ride promised
  or the wonderland of this path
Nor, will i demand maple syrup on a July night as
Monarch Butterflies find home
In December :
I am the gypsy-child-joy found in hot chocolate,
  wool mittens & rosy-cheek-snow-fort-building
The gingersnap of a winter walk
Iridescent and
Glimmered . . pearly-blue
Magic & timeless - I am the view looking up thru Christmas tree lights from the floor
And at seven degrees below, I am flannel-sheet-surrender
Fuzzy & plush like new white socks. . .
  surrender's silence & warmth -
Outlined, pulled, scored, tucked & wrapped
Defined. . . .