Morningtime

he was slow, gentle
careful, silky
like a bar of soap
to run along my body
i need cleansing and scrubbing
this dirty mouth begs for renewal
in the form of whisper
in the form of panting

soft, gentle
careful hands
his silky skin competes with mine
if i was blind i'd think he was a woman
but only for one minute, then i am reminded
he's anything but. kiss me come to me
front me like a hot check that bounces,
i'm investing just as much as he is.
i want him to tell me his name so i won't forget it this time
sign it on the bottom line in a place
where it's quite possible to feel
until the darkness turns over and exposes
its flesh-skinned belly,

tinted with hues of red and orange
translucent through a glue sky.
i must go celebrate my day
where silent drivers steer cars that yell at each other
in a town where anger is a disease that must be contained
behind closed doors before it spreads.
i like my coffee like lead, much like snorting gunpowder
offering a satiable buzz, a segue connecting night and day
you and me, or perhaps the crying baby down the street
or the man below me who wheezes vehemently at precisely 8 am
everyday, or mayhaps the sun with its milky mask.

welcome to my new routine, stay as long as you like.
watch your foot on the revolving door as i'm likely
to beg you in, push you out or nip fiercely at your heels

written on October 16, 2008