Valentine's Poetry

It's Wednesday ... Happy VD!

Anticipation of Separation

This is the rustle of the whisper
of the trickle
of the warm wet bead
crawling across your breastbone
while you wait for the faint bass
in the chest next to your ear
and you hear the intake,
the manifold,
the murmur of so much air
embracing his lungs
and you miss the moment
before it ends.
Drowning in the blues of faded cotton sheets.

He holds my hand against nightmares.
He develops superhuman strength
and mythic proportions and somehow
and illogically my merman embraces me again
against my jealousy and
despite his lying lips we live
within truth breathing underwater
and manifesting the pulse
of the city within
without and pierced through the core
again and again and again….