Tuesday, May 20, 2003

something about him

Something about the way he moves
reminds me of
soft, slow jazz,
a piano, a cymbal
and a sax
weaving a
passionate melody
that drips sensuality.

Something about the way he smells
reminds me of
a glass of fine merlot,
a Napa vineyard
and the musky scent
of a wine cellar
dark and filled
with mystery.

Something about the way he talks
reminds me of
opening night
on Broadway.
Where one is sure to find
dazzling entertainment
and certain fulfillment.

Something about the way he sings
reminds me of
the passion of Samson,
the love of Raoul,
But more than those,
Erik's inescapable lure,
his haunting song
my only cure.

Something about him
reminds me of
all that I can be,
all I long to hold,
the desire of
a thousand lovers,
and the purpose
of my soul.

Wednesday, May 14, 2003


You painted my days
with the color of music,
splashes of wisdom,
and abstract, absent minded
flashes of charm,
laughter and vision,
transformed into the
hottest of desires fires.
Today I walked away,
all the while
aware of your reserve,
yet still waiting,
and silently hoping,
you just might
return the ball
I served.

Expectations unfulfilled,
red candles dressed and burned,
dreams and schemes conjured and cast,
bright eyes that captured a gaze,
open ears that hung on his words,
passionate heart laid at his feet,
all of it
for nothing.

Blue eyes, peppered hair,
a smile so wide it held the stars,
and enveloped my soul.
But now you are gone,
and all I have
are a few scribbled words
and a desperate temptation
to interpret what might simply be
a statement
as an invitation.