It used to be



a feast of flesh

served upon


a plate of love.


It used to be

sensuality’s serendipity,


nor does my memory

exaggerate the way


I found you beautiful.


That look that lingered

on your face,


the race of heartbeats,

touch of skin on skin


electrified my life

& left my pulses




But now it’s more like

shaking hands:


although, still we slot

cracks & crevices


we forgot, fit cleverly



Yes, now it’s more

what love is not


& where we’ve been,



has left an imprint

we can’t blot, now love


has run,


at last the muse

has left us.

Summer tangle


I tangled with

the long grass


arms cut red:

criss cross


stripes of

holding life.


My garden is

a wild thing


escaping into



of iris, rose  &

lemon tree.


I tangle in

the long grass


like lovers arms

it wrestles


a caress,  &

sunrise leaves


an orange glow.

I move from east


to west,  lavender

raises musky head


reborn in summer’s






You hold me

like a book:


turning pages

searching image


hoping for a glance

I can’t reveal.


The clock ticks on

it’s midnight now


we talk on superhighway

peeling skin for bone,


my pages thin

& fragile


crushed to dust

by other loves.


You’re searching

for a meaning


the hollow of your

heart bleeds desire


& I fly out of print



by the satire

sold as love.


You hold me

like a book


I lean to catalogue

the moment.


Chapter heading

full stop.


End of line

hidden in your



black eyes.