#AmericanWriters
Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press
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
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
We, this people, on a small and lo… Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way o… To a destination where all signs t… It is possible and imperative that…
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Mark the mastodon. The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a