Sense is

Without seeing you
 I cannot see
Without touching you
I cannot feel

Chartreuse

The tenderest of greening
like this love,
cast unexpectedly a protagonist,
sprouting out against
the ashen gray of
decay and pain
on the canvas
of redemption past due
It is the transformation's hue
pulled from many a bundled
crawling before the run
It is the color of finding you

Amulet

In the darkest deep of grey water

I will search for the bluest stone

to hold exorcised 

the evil eye

for this love,

still an infant,

so precious

so fragile,

the bar code of our

assignment to each other

Kimono

Yes my master,
I am your Greek geisha
no tags left,
for you unwrapped the present
of my kintsukuroi heart

Submit

Under a sheltering banyan tree
was a man, sitting, open, unarmed with
conviction, offering
discernment with analog transparency
so that I had to submit
and follow,
as my guides gave up and left me
or maybe I banished them away,
to find what I longed
yet hadn't known it
to be you

Holding

A mere chance
of finding you
in a thousand moments
of keeping myself
hidden
and wanting to make now
all that it is
so that I find you
here
under the fingering
of that palm
you held open
for me
to perch on
gasping
for air
You are  holding
my heart alighted

Size

It can be a postage stamp
of a kingdom carved out
of disparate coasts

It can be a secret cave
of rock paintings
undiscovered

It can be the drop of sea water
in your eyes
in an ocean of grief

It can be the black collar
of a wedding's
burden

It can be the size of love

Let Me Own That

With deft and gentle hands,
guide me through
the truth of you

With trust and faith,
plant the seeds
of tomorrow

With commitment and love
grow us
into together

Two pillars apart,
raise the roof
of the temple

Sheltering
new, old
forever

A dam, breached


 You touched my hands and shoulders
and small of my back
with tenderness and possession too
I can feel the close circuit sparking
even now, between us
passing
to an end,
yet shrouded

Stillness of now is
a trial to attend,
debating
the sandbagging of the dam
I carefully planned to
destroy,
a saboteur,
with triumph and regret

The Dream

I was mere five years old,
sipping tea with
my raggedy dolls

Was it a tremolo hand
or a tight corset
that lifted the flat horizon

The peaks rose
like fountains
singing exaltation

It returned a few times
once as an elder lion,
another like you alone

A music, unaffected
by practice or pattern
a joy without living future

Decades later I think
must have been a memory
of an abandoned paradise

A dream, to accompany
this slumber,
on our way back to it

N2

Do you want me yours
or to go away
do you feel the net
or long for endless escape
Do you exhaust quest
to hide your pain
or single out victims
to round out your Dorian
portrait
You were my golden
acorn
buried underground,
a scroll for forensics
of love,
the crucible of
leaving myself

A 

Moored, broken sails
a hull full of trespasses
tinder splinters your wood
all that carbon
spent
to make you
and now
a
quantum
transfiguration
beginning,
 a new moon
waxing
your ebony
undersides
seaworthy ready
for a new
Odyssey
Sail on

K

Willow, bending grace
for sacrifice
an undulating motion
down playing
your
icy stealth

T

I inhale the clematis,
a tangle of sensual bliss
flowering with abandon
against the desolate grey
of fence, of sky, of  life chapter
 I am a vine, tendrils
erasing out doubt,
even reason
a herald of change,
a thigh of an aroused nymph
soft and luminescent
at once
and the magic
of spring
returns
me, a new Persephone,
to earth