tomorrow let me raise my chin
and feel the winters chill on my face
let me feel the cut of the bitter wind
as it moves from me to its winters race
let me feel the cold burning into my lungs
my ribs stretching as I deeply breath
while no heat escapes the winter suns
and bitter colds encroach within sleeve
let me love the smell of winters breath
her white blanket here a token
the fallen leaves of summers death
covered now their firm grasp broken
the silent plunge from clouds on high
of brilliant white cathedral’s
there crystal forms together lay
a hundred million steeples
I wrote this once before when catnip had distanced herself For a time and I had to wait for her to come back to me.
there is a hollow place in me
that rests waiting for your memories
that longs to hear your whispers
echoing softly towards our future
I see your love for me flourishing
but too afraid to reach out
your timid heart, too young to know
that love when held too tightly
can Slip through your fingers.
How often have I searched your words
For someplace to embrace,
Or maybe hide is a better word.
Sometimes the sadness is so delicious,
So complete, it engulfs me.
And the sorrow warms me
In a way the truth refuses to.
First came dark skies
Then came the rain
The days shortened
And grew colder
Rain became snow
Careful always, he said:
“Come slowly friend
With blushing cheeks
And lips unkissed by me”
Precious in the end
He runs through her words again
Considering their smooth deception
His anger subsides as he check the knots
On the discarded t-shirt binding her hands
She smiles as she considers her next words
Her delicate lips move against the soft fabric
Of her cotton blouse pulled up over her face
And she repeats the lie once again
I don’t want to fight with you anymore
Then she smiles knowing she will be punished
I am a Ghost
A prayer, a vapor.
As tender as the night,
I mold to you
As you lie there.
I come to you
As gentle as a cloud.
My Image enters
Your mind, your thoughts
Your secret desires,
As I slowly seduce
You inhale a tumble of your hair
Your plse rises and falls
As you guide my image
Unti your back arches
And my vestage retreats
From such a private moment.
Then you are alone.
Until you call upon me
This poem was inspired by Catnip who on occasion tries to kill me by telling me something so personal and erotic that it can only serve to drive me mad with desire. Which I am sure is her aim. So this was her story to me. I put it into the form of a poem. But she inspired it by telling me about how she thinks of me at times when she is along late at night. I think she is trying to kill me in the most delightful way.