Lovely Dreaming Foxes (I-VI)

I.

We agreed at 3am on this one thing…
we were silently pondering in the darkness
soul kisses and caress cast sparks around us like embers
flicked from the flames,
soft floating down in the blackness, like crying stars or
what could be
the eyes of lovely foxes
falling asleep in the forest.

She says what I am thinking, she always does this,
“I love you, isn’t enough as an expression,
to convey what is going on inside me.”

II.

Lying there exposed below the weight of the cosmos,
I close my eyes,
imagining my curled up dreaming foxes,
when she appears;
clarity in crisp blue jeans, poised with hips sweeping up imaginings
from the forest floor.
My lover is standing on a cold brick sidewalk
of a city affixed firmly to the soles of her black suede boots,
as if the earth would fall out from beneath us if,
if I were to lift her up.
Strokes of mahogany hair,
with striations of brushed brass.
Her eyes seek the depths of mine making me a mystery
to even myself,
and they were like the hematite pupils of lions
looking out from holes in the foliage of a verdant jungle.
Our gaze meets gently, and then rips open the promise of time,
expelling a breeze,
and little parachutes of hope
float off like soft threads from dandelion blooms.

III.

Where does our love go today my dear?
Oh, how she stood there in the frozen sparkle of air
while her warm, moist breath slowly spiraled out
and suspended around her lips.
I could feel the spires of frost that nearly had moments
on her tongue before they melt in that mouth.
That mouth.
I love her so much,
that my imagination cries for a voice –
beating the chest of eternity for just a shaved second
of time before it disappears
into the clouds of passion.

IV.

I wanted to just walk up and inhale that mist –
arriving on a voice that came on the crest of sigh
after sigh, after…
I followed the contours of her hips,
she spun around toward me and the moment flashed
and froze –
like a spirit swallowed up by the darkness.

V.

Bone gripping, I shake with awareness,
its presence is lulled from the shadows,
sucking the dampness from our skin, leaving us
brittle and shivering…
the presence of another is called for.  Cold makes us lovers,
narrowing that space through presses…
bodies fall into the sheets…
warmth from sun flees, and our bodies
are drawn together.

VI.

Trails of life in the crystal powder,
white nights, desert, colors seen in the moonlight,
tree limbs,
dendrites encased in blue crystal
immortalize.

tis nothing if not heardEmail this to someoneTweet about this on TwitterShare on Facebook0Print this pageShare on Google+0