Monday, October 13, 2008


When the storm descends
Within his eyes,
I see a darkness inside
Twisting and turning,
Desiring and trying
To be released,
A viable entity
Knocking at the door,
Whispering “more,”
Desperate to live,
Yearning to give
Him exactly what
He needs.
And my craving
To cultivate
It’s flowering form
Into a creation so vast
I can leap into its grasp,
Turns to torture so sweet
I long to weep,
But I resolve instead
To kneel and wait
In silence that aches,
Watching still
As darkness descends,
His fingers linger
Shaking in shame,
Signing his name
"Yes my love,
I'll come to thee..."
A long awaited R.S.V.P
To the long desired
Invitation to sin,
The long denied
Invitation to me.

Saturday, October 04, 2008


You say my dancing feeds you,
as your powdered palm pats,
and fingertips tap,
the skin of the drum.
And I watch half crazed
as you command passion
with percussive perfection
that wets my lips
and drives my hips
to destinations once unknown.
And you watch half dazed
as I twirl to your tabla,
drunk on sound,
inhibitions unwound,
shaken and awakened
to a realization profound,
until I approach knowing
you too can see
how deliciously dangerous
this symbiotic relationship
has the potential
to be.