Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.

A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,

When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always

I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived

Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts

I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry

FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,

Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press

Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn’t frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud

Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave

The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.

There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win