The First

The first kiss,and you as a conductor, your fingers pulling at mine,onto the train and into the night,curving over mountains, through tunnels Steam turning electric,currents passing through me, burning and blindingyour fingers curled in mine,a journey without end


Sometimes, when I am flying through the sky, I watch a shadow of my ship dragging across the backs of a scudding cloud.  I am my body lain along you, the curls and whips of white: your back, curving and drifting with me. shadows of my nails drawing up along your skin, tracing through your curving, … Continue reading Stratocumulus

Horse Hair Skier

Your nails still refuse to drag along my skin. Snow leopard. You... Your nails retracted, tongue curled, folded. Padding away into a mountains dark crevices. Where I, kokburu player, goat tosser extraordinaire, mad skier across Tuvan skies, lasso in hand and elk before me... am still not allowed to pursue. My rope whipping out, unanswered, quivering, inept.