that's hot
that is hot
sure













(press images to play)

and in this now
I wish I could live inside you -
for your body to become our structure
our floor and walls, no longer squared but rope fluid and slop
for living to become fusing
embrace impossible entangled

but would we still know one another
would I feel you, for you
as my face disappears,
the hot instant of your touch only memory,
vanishing like the table where we now write,
the chair on which I sit, indistinct.

Our rush subsided, lost in constant waves

I kissed you goodbye in the hallway, yellow, 5 floors,
each one singing louder than the last

You were there
the weight of you
spread between the grip of thighs,
wrench of arms and fingers
and breathing shallow.
For a measure of time collapsed,
seconds unformed and wild
under the mutual pink of our tongues flash.

I try to steal you, us,
but it passes and slips.
These words an insufficient canister, only a brush for memory, for more dreams and eroticism. And my longing to hold, to be held in delicate loving matter.