born to Cybele on a golden cloud
he appeared in a flash of lightning
carrying Prometheus on his back. 
his footsteps left luminous tracks
a blazing trail of prints 
& ground breaking indents
cementing his path through the sands of time.

when the bearded man spoke or wrote 
his words formed waves
blown by the west wind
& the sleeping dead woke
drinking his poems as an antidote
from a ...

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My whole body reacts

to the image of you in my head,

As I lay impassioned in bed.

I have never been more aware of the material that encapsulates the mounds on my chest.

My hips move involuntarily, my cl*t pulsates,

seemingly to my quickened heart and shallow rapid breaths.

I can see clearly your lips, your mouth,

those discerning eyes  that I love and hate in equal amounts.

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