Nineteen Eighty-Four Series VII of XX

Untitled
will the love we made tonight
be enough for us to remember
our summertime affair?
our walks and talks
shell hunting
a daily ritual,
our sunburned bodies
at first defend our virtues,
kisses that ignited
all those feelings
before keeping silent,
body heat that suffocated
our wills to say no...
and as our bodies touched
and pressed together
we made love that night
from all those night apart
waiting until next year.

August 11, 1984

A Night Before Leaving

the evening breeze

the crashing surf

the starboard lights

of a far off ship;

a dark ocean stretched

out to meet a

pale blue sky and

where they meet

I wonder why?

a full moon hangs

at fifty degrees high,

a thumb hole

in the heavens,

a persistent ocean

in her habits as am I

with my insomnia;

if only tomorrow

would never come

then I could forever

remain in the

night of yesterday.

August 11, 1984

Untitled
A lonely bather reclined on a raft
drifts without distraction like a falling leaf
up and down on the monotonous waves,
oblivious to all the surrounds her;
occasionally, her golden body is submerged
and is cleansed by the water's properties;
waist-length hair, identical in color as
her naked body rests in wet curls
at the base of her slender back;
outstretched arms, motionless...   disappear

beneath the raft as though they are
anchored in some strange manner;
a pale tongue moistens parched lips
as her head turns to face west;
quickly and mysteriously, a dry fog
descends...  covering the isolated inlet
in a pale veil of salt misty elegance;
her eyes open wide noticing my presence
her smile is enticingly seductive as
arms reach out beckoning me towards her;
without taking my eyes off her beauty

I walk slowly towards the water's edge while
deliberately removing the clothes that restrict my sight;
the cool waters calm my excitement and
tingly goosebumps form on my shoulders,
my breaststroke shortens the distance between us;
within reach, a dense patch of fog obscures my vision
and a penetrating chill evokes shivers, numbing
my strained muscles as my fingertips
hit the raft...  finding its emptiness a
vivid reminder of my own predicament,
and the two suns I've watched overhead;
my tired body betrays my persistence,

saltiness burns my lungs and the
last breath of air bubbles like little fishes
past my stinging half-closed eyes...
to an upright position my body snaps
like someone stepping on an upturned rake,
the sheets of the bed are soaked from my body's perspiration
and I breathe deeply as if it were my last.

August 10, 1084

Untitled

it is difficult to realize that

after so many battles, our words

still penetrate our coarse exteriors,

and our emotions are no longer

buoyed by a good night's sleep;

it is never understood how

insignificance becomes paramount

and hurt feelings are more easily

not accepted as we verbally abuse

our failing mutual trust with little

hope to salvage a meaningful like a

quickly vanishing summer shower

and our emptiness is more devastating

together than if we were separated;

it is musing to see what little

chance we give, yet continue to

perpetuate the hopelessness of the

situation in which we find ourselves,

and in which we futilely co-exist,

but the less we understand, the

more we struggle for its survival,

and the more we refuse to admit

our fate is not readily deserved.

August 9, 1984