she said
your eyes are like green blue rainbows.
looking at hers
i could only guess
she spoke true
what do i really know
of my own eyes?
on top of the world we have
an entire island beneath us
green hills curved around blue seas
silver sparkling memories
of pirates and empires
who knew how to duck in and out
of armadas and slingers and black deaths
this
tiny little island
now slowly drowning
in its own hubris
we laugh
what craziness that brought us
to where we are outsiders on the inside
of ourselves
hands on her hips
that perfect curve
that only a woman has
oh how i have missed
slopes and curves and wide buttocks and hips
i reach between layers of cotton
to the softest of flesh
between hip and breast:
pull close
small sharp intake of breath
hers or mine?
i could
oh i could so
fuck her.
instead we stand swaying gently:
dancing trees.
pressure rises up
pushes down:
the inevitable opening of the
gates
desire stains
my jeans
stick together
whimpering;
a lioness
roaring, unsure about
such peculiar pleasures
as waiting
asking
is this really
what you want
older couples walk by
hand in hand
they don't seem to burn
they don't seem to
need to
fuck
they watch the queer women
she without much hair and i
in a good pair of walking shoes
which one of us
is which?
they walk
too close.
i wonder if it is just age
or if i
american from head to toe
endowed with the eyes of the
sea maidens
those sweet sirens
who shaped my name
before i was born
and brought me to the island
at the edge
of the old
falling
loosing everything it once knew as true
if i never belonging am just
unusually horny.
those sea creatures told me
pirate stories
forgetten during overgrown empires
of loss and recovery:
its never too late
to ride the ocean of desire
to steal the world anew.
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