You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October 2009.
Ending us feels like
Water pressed from the cream
As all the excess runs away,
Collected and discarded
You’re going away and so I go forward into destiny
I don’t dance in the euphoria of our togetherness
Like pearls on a strand is the path to your heart
An ant am I on the crawl cross the capillaries of fate
Slipping on time to get to you
And spinning nearly every time off an invisible edge
She takes his jabs seriously,
Talantbek Chekirov
exasperated by both tone and objective
Thinking, how could a man be so single-minded
and obtuse?
Her skin crawls imagining his stories
into reality with the foulness of his language
and insistence on depictions of the most base
of human experiences.
Yet, she forgives his coarseness when her body shivers in the heated silence
that darkness brings
When tensions between them melt,
pressed out by the purifying acts of physical love.
In those times he brings her past the words
and into the theater of animal fantasy.
How does one resist, in good faith,
The subtle, mechanical spell of lust
That at one moment seems only a passing appreciation
And the next becomes progressively consumate in thought
Leading to opportunity for deed
The world unravels itself in tangles of these affairs!
And at one point can the thread be snapped?
And where is the line to be drawn?
Are these the kinds of questions that have led us to cover
every inch of ourselves in cloth?
So that no man should ever have to ask himself?
Recent Comments