To lie and love, not aching to make sense
Of this night in the mesh of reference.
To touch, unclaimed by fear of imminent day,
And understand, as only strangers may.
To feel the beat of foreign heart to heart
Preferring neither to prolong nor part.
To rest within the unknown arms and know
That this is all there is; that this is so.
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Evening is here, and I am here
Now sipping my unfizzy beer,Now looking out where on the grassTwo striped and crested hoopoes gleanDelicious insects one by one.A barbet flies into the sceneAcross the smoky city sun.My friends have left, and I can seeNo one, and no one will appear.This must be happiness, to beSitting alone with birds and beer.In a brief while…
Once upon a time a frog
Every night from dusk to dawnHe croaked awn and awn and awnOther creatures loathed his voice,But, alas, they had no choice,And the crass cacophonyBlared out from the sumac treeAt whose foot the frog each nightMinstrelled on till morning nightNeither stones nor prayers nor sticks.Insults or complaints or bricksStilled the frogs determinationTo display his heart’s elation.But…
I heard your name the other day
She said she thought that you were looking great.A waiter passed by with a plate.She reached out for a sandwich, and your nameWent back from where it came.But like a serious owlet I stood there,Staring in mid-air.I frowned, then followed her aroundTo hear, just once more, that sirenic sound –Those consonants, those vowels – what…
You don’t love me at all? O God. O Shit.
About as much as one who’s asked to useA second hat when he’s in need of shoes.Since, I discover, my own self-respectIs quite enough to keep my spine erectWhy is it true my ample self-affectionWill not suffice to buoy me in rejection?
Light now restricts itself
The angled sunSlants honey-coloured raysThat lessen to the groundAs we bike throughThe corridor of Palm DriveWe twoHave reached a safety the yearsCan claim to have created:Unconsumated, thereforeUnjaded, unsated.Picnic, movie, ice-cream;Talk; to clear my headHot buttered rum – coffee for you;And so not to bedAnd so we have set the questionAside, gently.Were we to become loversWhere…
I smiled at you because I thought that you
Between two strangers in a librarySomething that seemes like love; but you loved me(If that’s the word) because you thought that IWas other than I was. And by and byWe found we’d been mistaken all the whileFrom that first glance, that first mistaken smile.