Your hands rough but tender
explore the spaces in between
alternate numbers,
you know, those memories of your
fingertips we never speak of,
breath is a divine instrument of torture
sometimes when it leaves you all alone,
I have loved often and many before,
but I could not have loved you more,
had I loved you any less
Gabriel's oboe summons us from our
missionary position, Adam and Eve
did not make love
did not know how to make war
behind closed doors
with memories of other lovers

Supplement

You are the percipient of I
understanding
all things relevant
in my
leanings
towards all
meaning

It’s the wife; we’ve not spoken for ages
For a while now she’s not moved her lips
But her diet it seems to be working
You can tell by the size of her hips
Ask, if you can, what’s upset her
Was it something I did or forgot?
She sits there and stares at the ceiling
And she hasn’t been eating a lot
See if she wants to go shopping
The food I’ve been eating is junk
Tell her she needs a good shower
She’s beginning to smell like a skunk
Find out where all my clean socks are
I haven’t changed these for a while

the rumble
lies within
the quiet sits outside
with mind between its claws

filled with jar gleamings

while the skull shells
sift their meaning
dark and sallow

your soul lays against
my parchment
thick raised
ink
fingerprint articulation
breathed in whispers
thick with want
like a shore wave
falling in the crescent coast

how I loved you the most

Truth is now lost,
in this earthly world,
love now a ghost,
torturing souls with its meaningless words...

Turning their selfish motives real,
people play with tender hearts,
sensitivity of emotions they steal,
without caring how much it hurts...

Considering unspoken words and patience,
as an advantage to fool someone...
People forget they are also humans,
but with extremely foolish minds,
having thought good for no one...

a woman's face wears many masks
her precious secrets to conceal
so a man may sit and ponder
if what he sees is truly real

he's a very clear-headed man
who takes his time and sets his goal
he's sure to see the masks diverge
as he taps on the door to her soul

The feeling

kind of lingers
kinda lingers
kindalingus

oh yes that feeling

cindalingas
cinallingas
cunnilingus

oh yes!

i.

And I have decompressed time into the face
of my Beloved.

Solemnly.
Delightfully.
Righteously,
I compress the sighs of my life
into breath, one after the other,
for the fruit falls not far from the tree
and its branches sing praise to the sky.

Smoke inside a bubble is still smoke, our shadows
rise above.

ii.

Tongue traveling down your spine
Searching for the source
Mouths moist with pleasure
seeking one another

Suction 
Finger tips explore
Regions of privacy
Previously unknown 

Stroking 
Slipping in between
Salty fresh thighs
Making a connection

Two entities melding
Sensation untamed 
Lifting off into orbit
Explosive reaction

Congregational prayer session
Like the village market I used to go
This world filled with blares
Noises designed to deceive
Pleading to sell and to seduce
Babbling strange impenetrable tongues
Spreading fear of impending doom
With overwhelming wind of din
As earthquake, typhoon and tsunami
In the mist of this cacophony
Take a step and pull away
Listen to the indwelling spirit
The still small voice of the soul
And it shall be well with you