Tag Archives: hips

Moonlight Serenade*

Beauty makes me sad           Makes me grieve           I see what I must leave From “At Cross Purposes” By Samuel Menashe What plates a lustrous thing will tarnish. You were the silver moon, light of my night, beautiful and … Continue reading

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Menu

Yes, I am hungry. These are meals I would devour: Scrambled eggs with buttered whole wheat toast, ovum, milk and seed. All regrets, well chewed and swallowed and shat into a shallow hole dug with my trowel and covered with … Continue reading

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My Ambiguous Gesture

I sent out my message across the lonely void etched with the lines of our bodies, your hips and breasts and your smile framed by long hair, my ambiguous gesture of hello-goodbye, never knowing if you’ll read these plaintive lines.

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Las palmas

I am susceptible to the contour of your hips they pull me a tide race white as sea foam smell of salt in stirred air metallic tongue-feel palpable absence  on a sunny day evaporation  as a kind of accumulation a … Continue reading

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Laundry

SHE IS DRIFTING in the warm lulling roar of the laundromat. She is a writer of erotica, and she has her standards. No vampires, no werewolves, no zombies.  She’s no prude; au contraire, light bondage is just too trendy, has … Continue reading

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Self-portrait, 2:40 a.m.

I’m lying on the redundantly hard floor with the short-napped carpet insinuating its pattern into my cheek and brow and I feel my weight at my hip bones and penis and knees and also I am aware that ironically I … Continue reading

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Pulp Fission

I died a little when you bent over pulled up your jeans wriggled them over your hips and walked to the door.

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