i do not speak of her kiss

the of gentle tenderness

that speaks for itself

i do not clamor like

the bell over a hammock

that holds my quiver

as it sinks into the sofa

after the touch of pink coral

i just listen to the chatter

and fuss of my aorta

squeezing more life

though my arteries


burn inside the heat

that each compression

brings to my flesh


inhaling the moment

trying to ease the excitement

that i am flush with

View gemboy's Full Portfolio