Man

Of each other we are perfect 

The grooves fit and fill each quarry

And in the snugness of our fitting

We descend upon elation. 

A tone perfected in the solitude we own

Unshared, uncharted, undulating

Respected mores even amongst

Societal rot.

Then 3am came, and with it- You

Your thickness, your customs, your chivalry

Your projected gentlemanly considerations...

This is not the time, nor the place

For anything but-

The animal in you. 

Let the dream carve us open,

To feast without expectation

Amidst the landscape of our bodies. 

Judged by the potency

Of appetite. 

12 Minutes

To carve a niche 

Into morning

Lead to night. 

Folded nuance

Whispers reminders from nearby

To firm up endings

And send them on their way. 

To Taos and the snow

To travel up that winding road

Alongside rapids that whirl, 

Wrangling in their foam and froth

Melted venues, dispersed. 

Stop

Reaching for distraction

To invite loss

Spilling moments sideways

Into the abyss

Of unmarked time. 

This desire

Necessitating the urge

To pluck and procure

One morsel to quantify

Time. 

Collecting only courtesy

Storing unshaven smiles

Insisting on, 'imagined' connections

Knowing full well 

'It's there'.

Keeping warm on ideas

Promising 'soon' is nearby

Giving wind to sails of false bravado

While slinking into oodles of, 

'Business' as usual. 

The double hug was real

Thrice it reached back in

A year and a few ago, widening out 

Rounding the quotient of infinity

Between us. 

Nailed into permanent memory

You. 

Brand

Dissection of cells reveal naught 

The intention instigates purely, 

Feeling. 

Master scheme designations

Do not fail. 

Indigenous components wake

Once inhalation renounces 

Everything

Else. 

There exists an aroma 

That words wish they were capable

Of articulating,  to prove

This brand of willingness 

Whose inception, devoid of the mind

Encourages wholly

The fuck. 

Prey,

Unknown to itself

Surrenders all physical senses

To pay homage

To the infinite glory of

Animal attraction. 

I remember being young

With honest wishes to obey confusing laws

The drums then were loud

Obnoxious. 

Demanding. 

Those grey areas

Were. Not. Grey. At all. 

But rather succulent shades of rouge 

To bruise. 

And there are bruises worth enduring 

To serve to remind

Of sleepless nights

Spent fucking 

The love of a lifetime. 

Rig

The juiciest chunk

In limbo

In your throat 

Sucked. 

Out, through

Your mouth

Teeth, lips

You. 

Sounded out,

Through

You.

Hard Hat

Passed you, quickly

Past glee and into

Remorse.

Unshaven smile

In- to- me

Stuck- to- me

Tizzy. 

Warm Grit

Low pulse heating

Cooing dark boxes, bleating

Dreams of queued repairs

Acquiring the assistance needed

Debunking the REM

Two moons, reflected

Ceiling tapped, a stranger- collected

Hyphenated hesitancy

These characters deride incision,

To "fuck no" the noun,  presented. 

The 'he' he once was

Presenting resolute function

Tools strapped, utility performed

Stature booming beside forgivable tone

But this dream is,  just that. 

I smell a silent rant

Initiating discovery and getting in like smoke

Yet what I want least 

Is fire in the house we've built

Too long gone to welcome the inhale.