Litkicks Message Board Archive

two minutes to midnight .....

Posted to Poetry




come to me before midnight by back roads and railcars,
on steal - feel your way here, peeling the miles off
like the release of a fugitive kiss
and i will give you bliss and quell your soul's terror
with wet hazel irises taking you in, my tears rinsing your face.
i hear the whistle of bells telling of the absence of hell,
heaven arriving in a boxcar when our touch begins
and fingertips trace the inches of us,
skin to skin!

come to me enthused!
refuse the wait! make haste so i can taste your spirit,
your voice speaks such soothing tease, let me hear it!
exhale your breath into my ear as i pull the sound
of your tongue in which speaks of now,
so riddled by the questions of why and how,
so freed by the sugar of please in your mouth!

i will have no regrets and i will not forget tomorrow!
let me be your focal point as you borrow moments stolen
to cross the loss of yesterday's sin
please come into me slow again!

it is two minutes to midnight.
my hands are frozen reaching up to you,
the calendar is locked by Time
and i am just a rhyme out of meter
waiting for your treasured touch in as much
as it can or cannot happen, teetering,
trapped in the wrap of enthuse, mused by you,
repeating the beating of my heart
in your open palms -

come to me and let me sing you psalms!

take me now upon my knees,
take me part by part and please,
please me with Love's mysteries
while you hold me whole in sieze!
please come to me!

i will be the Hope set free on your tongue,
the young journey of a song sweetly sung on lips,
a trip to ecstasy, perhaps, as we tap into our gift, mouths agape!
peel my heart open like an apple while the moon is in crest
and take a bite! come quick! let me be your escape
and maybe tonight we will not rest
while laughing at the pain of yesterday,
our sighs alive within the diving into come what may!

come free my heart!
these rhymes and stanzas bleed for you
like a stream of liquid Love, my feet are wet without regret,
i move my soul to yours above the fire,
so taut my want and desire, so gaunt my cheeks,
as weeks and months of days take me sleek into
minutes of our unity banked, interest saved,
ready to be spent!

i do not own heaven.
do not bother with the thought,
i am Eve, disguised, often reticent,
perhaps with a key to the gate in my hand.

please understand, i stand alone
articulating myself in the shadows
of a metronome's tick,
questioning the timing,
playing quick with the rhyming of yearn,
the fire between my legs surrounds my heart
and i am just a part of a satiating dream, burning,
unseamed without a touch, inside out beating
our percussion between the ribbing of my own chest,
watching the silent road without rest,
and my heart has been sliced with a shiv.

one day when you come maybe i will live
again.

come to me and i will dance myself
around the blur of wisdom, so sure that the
trajectory of Love's blindness will illuminate you
and we can record our conversations
and our breathing, like an awakened dream
to be replayed when we are again ghosts.

would you like to bring my slipper like a prince
and try to fit it on me? my foot is small enough to fit
into your mouth and it is spring with summer rising soon,
the sounds of locusts echoing the moon
and i am on a binge of verse, first with leaps of faith,
then with the terse blend of syllables, doing pirrouettes
with syntax, adjusting the burst of wanting with commas,
illustrating the cursed daunting and rue of your taunting words
with chords of harmony.

here is your invitation.
it is two minutes to midnight.
come to me and let us become the creation
of a fairy tale set in Eden, elation in the cadence
of spontaneous lines, reprieving ourselves
in combination!

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4.10.2002