Butterfly Boy
He falls back into the folds of the couch,
sexy lounger
lavishing his own flesh.
His thick, black locks fan out,
forming a frame of darkness around his delicate visage.
His
eyes shine an incandescent green as he relishes in the
ridges
of his body.
She reaches into the depths of his room,
world, soul
trying to identify the source of his sensuality.
The chase: he for her chastity, her for his identity.
He
pushes hard.
She loves, hates, loves him again.
She
grasps wildly, attempting to pinpoint his personality.
He
flits away, a nimble butterfly:
beautiful though bashful,
intriguing yet intangibly,
effeminate and erotic.
He
tantalizes and tortures her.
Sexuality reigns, sarcastic
splurges, seeking sensory experiences,
he
penetrates……………………her
psyche.
Saltatory conduction hyperspeed,
leap frogging of
the action potentials down his mylinated axons.
He inhales
hallucinogens for a high; she intakes his aura as
her drug of
choice. He acts as her surgeon, performing deep
brain
stimulation.
All actions – repeating rhythmic motions –
penetrating eyes narrowing,
head nodding assurance,
body
shaking,
overtaking,
she succumbs to his pulsating…
Collapses… defeated, deflated, damaged.
He
flits away frenetically: depleted, depraved, disenchanted.
Fresh
Strawberry
In the garden of my youth
Winter comes to reign
I become aware of the cold as it
freezes me piece by piece
Finger tips, lips, and finally—my
heart
I turn numb against the pain of bitter ice
Sweet
sunlight caresses me with momentary glimpses of a paradise beyond
And the blizzard blinds me again
Left only colder
Wandering amidst the whiteness, pure yet void
Fog so thick
about me
I wonder whether I am dreaming or in a dream
Fall
to my hands and knees
Cry out to be saved
From a hell I
know exists because I taste it day by day
Draw closer to its
decrepit gates
Feel the vile aura seep into me
My eyes are
closed, please say I’m dreaming
As the nightmare becomes
reality
Spinning slowly, fever rising
Reach out, clutch
desperately
Fresh strawberry against the white void
Lush
redness amidst the purity
I place the fruit upon my lips
Frozen I hardly feel the rich nectar
Filling me with life
I still feel the last drops inside me
My soul dances in
ecstasy
As I soar high above
Leaving a worn shell on earth
Red strawberry smeared against the white