A Play on Words

Unsurpassable depths
Unsurpassable depths to where I go
Following with mind, spirit, soul
Blindlessly leading
In the moment
To somewhere
Somewhere magical, spiritual, generously lavish
Decorated with sweat, sex, esteem, beautiful lips
Traveling by deathless glory, endless roads
But with sequencing silver spoons
Situated in the middle
Like rows of candy drops on a child’s tongue
I’m climbing, squeezing against the hard metal
For freedom, for circular wonders
To the clouds, sun, sky, to space- to reach
To ascend above, hovering around the world
Bird’s eye view of mistakes, of love, of true and burning passions
Endless roads is where I go, continuous journey- by choice
In the moment, gripping the spoon’s synthetic end
Countless sallow circular metal depths
A fantasy-surreal, cunning glee
A breeze of life, of true desire
Sensations tickle my toes, spread my legs, and breathe anticipation
Selfishly traveling to mountainous depths
With fire

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I feel myself a certain aniexty
between the desire of my heart
my body
my mind
like forbidden fruit
I ponder endless possbilities
between me and you
Like a tiger
on the prowell
I feel myself guilty
of the deepest fantasies
free
Its free to roam
from dark places- to kitchen-to lights
its endless desire
endless love
and endless dance
beyond me
I sit in hot anticıpation
as my thoughts dance around endless possbilites
of me and you
and we lay
unbeknownst
to the fire that lies inside me
like a flame from self fulflled desires
places in dreams by you
and you are
so much of my mystery
like I am
so much of yours.

Tragic Love

There is one in my life
who I have loved for so long
loved, cried for, longed for, anguished over
and meddled in sweet dreams with
held tight as his blond hair wraps itself around my finger
there is nothing
nothing that could eloquently explain this
what we have is beyond language
beyond understanding
just tragic of sorts
for I love him as a whole
as a beautiful whole
with nothing untainted, nothing unexposed, nothing unsaid
I lay naked right in front of him
my heart on his table
my mind on his spoon
my body in his bed
and he consumes my every confession
five years of this in the making
summers, nights, weeks, months,
of love
floating between time, space, and distance
there is no way to describe this tragic love
but an instant in the moment when you look into my eyes
as they lay upon his
or the tears gently falling as we repeat our goodbyes
touched in disbelief
and the hopes and bitter reality of my expectations
and his
rather right or wrong
it is
naked reality, naked truth
handling itself most elegantly
in a bed full of love and broken dreams
there's only one man I love like this
and ever will