The Autobot

Hi. This is the qmail-send program at yahoo.com.I'm afraid I wasn't able to deliver your message to the following addresses.This is a permanent error; I've given up. Sorry it didn't work out.-- Yahoo Autobot


What if it worked out?

Would it bridge the pained silence
between the portals of our existence?

Could it have meant anything
beyond the plain planes of platitude
among estranged lovers whose quietude
is the last strand of sanity clinging
like hair to drandruffed scalp?

The autobot might have known better
than us whose uncontrolled passions flare
like wounded bulls propelled by rage
from a bullfighter's poisoned arrows.

I Quiver, You Shiver, We Err

I quiver
at the mere
thought of your
embrace.
You shiver
as I go under
the sheets
beside you in bed.
We err
and wonder
why a man
not a woman
tastes like sugar
and spice.

Drench

Your lips are not mine
no matter how warm
they gently touch my skin.
Somewhere between the puffs
of mint-scented breaths
smelling like candy,
the act cannot be acted out
without the climactic sigh
of betrayal as someone else's name
is revealed by your eyes
that see shadows by the windows
as you withdraw and pretend
to be satisfied, while your tears
wet the bottom of our bed
and drench us to death.

Solstice

But I yearn
for a man's
warm palm
brushing against
my skin
like beta
rays scanning
my innards --
I give in --
I surrender --
to the night's
solstice.