The immortal touch

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

We touch shoulders in the dark

But I want more

Like a luckless down and out beggar

Rubbing his hands on his lucky stone

Desperate to make something come of it,

A boy scout with stick firmly gripped

Between his sweaty palms

Stroking with the hope he can make fire

Only I am no boy scout,

And the first I ache to make

Won’t keep me warm, but will consume me

And I don’t care, desperate to turn

This tiny smoldering bit of smoke

all my strokes have caused

for something more intense

something I can throw myself into,

a mortal sacrifice for a chance

at the immortal this touch leads to than

until we rub together so hard,

we cannot help but explode

On the tip of your tongue

Saturday, December 20, 2014

You feel it first

On the tip of your tongue

Before you taste it

Yielding then unyielding,

And as moist as a ripe mushroom

Making you ache to sink

All your teeth into it

But you plunge your tongue

Deep into it instead,

Circling the place

That makes you ache the most,

Lost in the depths of the forest

With no yearning to escape,

Waiting for the wolves to devour you

When you are the wolf

With the world on the tip of your tongue,

Doing all you can to ease the ache

To prepare this holy ground

For more of you to enter,

Your unyielding core plunging

Deep into that abyss

Rubbing more than just sticks together

With the hope of making a fire

That will consume you

Even as you burst,

So that you can no longer feel or taste

Or think, but merely keep on.

Going deep

Sunday, December 14, 2014

I fall into your eyes

With arms outstretched

A deep sea dive

Into an abyss I know

I can never escape from

The dark depths of it

So filled with doubt

I’m sure I’ll drown

And do not care

Feeling the warmth

Of it as I break the surface

The press of it against

My flesh as I struggle to swim,

No break this deep in,

And yet, I try,

Breathing in something

Far richer and thicker

Than air, heat

Searing my lungs

With each gap,

I am scalded

Head to toe,

And even then

As a drowning man

I do not despair

Fingers feeling for the soft of it

As I reach, and reach again

Outstretched and vulnerable

Exposed to it all

The chill of not being here

More terrifying than even sinking

Too far down to know

I can’t possibly survive

If I do not dive

So I dive all the deeper

Seeking what I know is

Really there,

Something I need

Far more than I need air.