What voice

from yonder window

breaks the ear drumming beat

of my heart’s broken speed.

I wander alone

down a boulevard’s center,

pining for one

held in me for such a time

I am forgotten the days

journeyed without.



the now moment of all time,

I stand in both wait and want,

for a name to connect

before the face is met,

and the understanding is mine.

For the tones descending

call to me, images.


Ideas and ideals that hold me

in wait and want.

For a name to connect

before the face is met.


I image a face,


in a black silken Niagara

of dark tresses

a beckoning half smile

awaiting fingers to intertwine

scalp caressed

in the knead

to disperse a perfumed scent

pulling out

long tresses

between digits


part lips in a breathy exhale

to give an arid chill.


A sonorous tone,

broken by escaped moan,

cheek swiveled

to run a hand over a beige scape


imagine a beholden gaze

sight lidded in a veil,

half pleasured lips

of umber tint,


I await the unspoken

intersection of our eyes.

drop limbs

to hand trace the body

glide back to front

with a neck to cheek grind,

then down

and firmly around

guide a hip-sway

on rhythms back



a stimulation of simulation

forth and fro

two inflame

knuckles white

a she and I



The prevention-avoidance

of our escape

in a singular motion

chasms to peaks,

within broken boundaries

love and lust,


for all time

until an end game


spoken in the chortled whispers

of two

becoming the essence of one

to become

three heart rhythms


in a belly dance.


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