Reflections: White Scorpion

morning easily arrives when my thoughts turn to you,

of yesterday's first blush of you in your black and grey,
of our quick conversation and stolen glances,
of our purposeful avoidance that no one noticed;
of your need to call me and my need to hear.

morning easily arrives as only hours separate us,

and work precludes our need for closeness,
making excuses to talk or text or walk by,
hoping the night passes by unnoticed and our
appetites remain unsatisfied even though we have
our snacks several times a day, wondering if
Maslow understood his own hierarchy at all.

evening arrives precariously unannounced as if
the soliloquy was never heard like unpublished
notes from a not-so-famous manuscript, but
the main characters are real and miss receiving
all the love they cannot show unless they lay
it down between random smiles and knowing looks.

the hand of sleep closes my eyes more than once,
your image dances carelessly, escaping from the shadows
of restraint and the desire you left upon my lips;
your memories spoon mine as if for years they had been offered
and now for the first time received like a lover's thrust;
your heart holds mine tenderly, gently bringing it back
from what it did not know but surrenders to your now.

down between our bellies, your hand slides deliberately

carassing my warmth until it begins it stroking;
gently, lips kiss my face and lips as upside-down our
bodies move to establish a locked-in embrace;
your smile esplodes in my face, my grip tightens,
our love passes between us like electrical currents,
resting in amazement inside each other's dreams.

December 30, 2010