Can I peel my hungar off the corner of your mouth?

Can I stir between my thighs, soften and light up in your eyes

While we sit – strings over a bridge to loosen the tensions between us?

I’d like to slip into your brain for a while, unzip your synapses with my teeth.  I find your thoughts arousing, your words corral me.

I quiver in the proximity of how you think.

I am wet from things said and unsaid,

For even between those plutonic sheets there is embedded arousal.

Our minds give and take foreplay for hours.

And as we play – we are adjusting the tensions, exchanging breath – keeping the strings taute and the lips wet,

To open another session, we take smoke breaks as if we’d been sweating and naked.  But we were slipping in and out of the love our mind’s were making.

(Rochester, NY. Spring 2009, for my ‘other’)