When Dawn Came (Revisited)

It was here one night,
among white blossoms and junipers,
that we lay and were touched
while the rest of the world snored
in their small beds.

We breathed frost words to breezes on branches,
breathing deeply in the deep woods
with no earthly destination,
hidden behind the pulse of dawn
throbbing on a trigger’s touch.

You were delicate incense I lit alone.

In silence,
my fingers found the sweep of stars on bare skin—
a house-warmth murmur of Christmas gold when you breathed.

You were a bird
whose only cry came in color in the company of starlight,
whistling up the violets
in a garden wilderness of morning delight,
flowering into streaming pink and gold,
and fleshed with last night’s rose petals when dawn came to us.

Car Hysteria (Seduction Revisited)

Earlier today,
shopkeepers seduced pot-bellied old men
with sleek,
brand-new cars
that rubbed and kissed their trousers
and guaranteed to stop lonesomeness.

Erstwhile minds backpedaled on leather seats
where stale memories surfaced and breathed new air,
striking deals in brown cubicles
under the breath of fresh coffee.

What she feared most,
kicked and scratched
and wanted to grow big enough to crawl
from the backseat of a yellow Pantera
and seduce her all over again,
while her husband and she waited
for his father to sign the lease
as wordy as Shakespeare but lacking any color.

She stayed away from the thing of her past—
Some memories are the turmoil
of a soul knotted like hair in vomit,
where forlornness and tumultuousness sting.


You are full brazen;
Your swollen tan lies crisp on sunbaked sand;
You call attention to her snug rounded smooth firm thighs,
But you take her breasts in hand instead.

Seductive anticipation,
You promise her the taste of fried chicken skin;
And so her mouth waters all woman—
Course and raspy pudding under foot.

But she is short on your mind,
She is the shadow of a soporiferous color;
You set her aside for a long look at naked dancing girls—
Their bold vees fit well for the Valencia republic.

Your lamentations bay to the one who will take your grasp;
Your espousals become the smell of arid nicotine;
You promise motherhood to girls offering views of their paunches,
But your oaths tumble over ecstasy stains on fingers rolling dry leaves.

You go your separate ways:
You to a pretty face with unpainted lips.
She makes no promises;
She is only hungry now to know the heart.