Tuesday, 01 September 2009




Now dawn is filtering between
The roughly drawn curtains. Not yet
Fully appeased, we begin our
Approaches. Stealthy, a hand moves
From nipple to belly, fingers
Test for an opening. Sighing.
You signal; sighing, I answer.
We cannot help it, but like two
Twigs we come drifting together,
Borne away once more by the stream,
Rocking and being rocked in spasm
On spasm. How easy to hate you,
Dear love, for what I do in this
Pale ray of light that crosses our
Struggling bodies, gripped in a
Death-lock, devouring each other.


This site was last updated 01-09-2009