Here the Sea

Her eyes have made a loyalist of me.
On the last day of winter, is it natural
my future resembles lime grapes?  What cost
will I pay for the rapture of a solarium? 
I wouldn’t have thought I’d fall so easily for
bejeweled eddies.  I am seduced by the fever coming
off the shores of her eyelids. My inbox is oblivious
to my steadfast gaze.  As they say in Petra, I prefer
you cut into the hillside of my mountain, which means
your face is the coastline to my dreams.

At the Club

Just then I saw her inhabiting me and inhabiting me
from other moorings of her own molding. 
I moved like an island bequeath to the forlorn.
The way light splashed across her nose
gave me unparalleled views but I had not the yoga
to pour myself into one ocean and lacked valor.
The rhythm said unzip the skin of your prisons
prized by the scarred and those who know only how
to breathe with their back to the horizon, a vainglorious
solo. I stylishly gave back her license in the dark.

Maithuna
        

What were we reaching for, pouring
the storm of our days those first few hours
into each others’ mouths? And what sadnesses
were we abandoning?  What wars were we
marching against? And just how many hearts
you asked were stolen and how many rightfully
mine?  How did I come to imagine building
a city of flowerboxes?  Or hear your ancestors
whispering in between kisses? And then,
when in the next few hours did we cease?