Fractals / Empaths

A ripe gripe smacked in tacky spit through thin lips,
a wet grape pressed tight between old mauve stained fingertips,
inflection a sharp vice,
clenched teeth behind my eye.
Tugging the cardinal tether,
the demur within the protest has spiderwebbed,
shattered feathers.
Poignant, myopic, idle, distorted.
Complaints so shallow, amplified
as if of great importance.
The sound of continued cavil,
is a hammered wedge congesting my mind.
He dissipates a mental estate, unloads,
clouding my state of mind.

Lust and Love

Spring 2012, ISSN 2161-2846.

Lust and Love
I want someone to lay with me.

Run their hands down the sides of my mind.

Touch the soft curves of my thoughts and

brush against the fragile bones of my soul.

I want to be addicted.

A junkie looking for my next fix,

searching for a way to pay for my next moment, of euphoria.

I want to feel needed.

That choking feeling of hope

that someone would grab the rope

before I jump before I let go.

Because I ache for more than the surface.

More than conversation down dates

and broken hotel rooms.I want to feel real.

A rush.

Push me against the wall and tear the clothing off my heart.

I want to expose all

my dreams and fears,

without being afraid,

to fall apart.

Comb your fingers through my mind.

— Don’t let go, pull, tug!

I want to show you, everything.

I want to fall in love.