We live and love, we live and lose, we live
There’s passion, poison, sadness in each heart
The end of everything is when we give
The passion, poison, sadness as a part
of sacrifice; we give our gifts to god
The things we have in life are what we are
the end of life is part of life, it’s odd
that sudden death can be so near, so far.
We own our death, we own our birth, our life;
the only things we give are birth and death
our own, our children’s, more than man and wife
we procreate, we build another’s breath.
And if we choose to end a life, we will
complete the living circle when we kill.
I danced with death and let the music play
My legs are still concealed in subtle pain
I only dance in hopes that love will stay
I only love because I’m only vain.
Come be with me, be perfect in the night
there is no passion guiding us at all
I know we’re wrong, and yes, I want what’s right
I want the wrong in us to weaken, fall
If you and me are all that we can get
Then let me guide you: tired, cold, insane
Those things are me, I want you to forget
I want to be your love, your warmth, and plain
confusion is the promise I will give,
but I will love you every day we live.
Hello, hello, I listen to the sound
of her machine which waits for me to say:
Hello, hello, we make a welcome round
although we know our welcomes always stay
I hear her voice like medicine for pain
Does she hear mine? I try to sound like love
I love to say “hello;” it’s how I gain
my daily knowledge, her I’m thinking of
The day will come when phones are obsolete
I’ll feel her breath touch warmly on my cheek
Hello, hello, will be left incomplete
we’ll touch, we’ll love, I wonder if we’ll speak?
Her touch and love are in her sounds, “Hello.”
And I am in her love, I know, I know.
To have her love with me tonight, I’d sweat
and feel the slickened moisture of her skin
I’d take her love, however I could get
and give my love to her, as much, within
I think of how I pierce her willing flesh
And how we move together, making heat:
our hips, our legs, desires intermesh
we hunger for the places where we feast
where softened flesh is moist; where skin is thick
the thickened skin and softness begs to burn
beneath the piercing flesh, she waits to turn
my mouth explores her love, my tongue, her lips;
I love to lose myself within her hips.
Her blouse is loose, I see her body flow
within the folds of silk, I long to hold
her flesh, her breasts, her nipples, then let go
of inhibitions, taking what I told
my woman when her beauty was my new
experience, I feel her softness first
then feel her hand on me, she likes to do
her best to me while calling it her worst.
Come do your worst and feel me doing mine
You’re mine and I will do you as I want
I drink you like I drink my favorite wine
I stay with you; I am a ghost to haunt
your empty rooms, your attic, full of fear;
I fill your spaces; you can feel me near.
My life is bland like dinner without spice
when I do things without my beauty there
I smiled today, the day was perfect, nice
except my gorgeous woman didn’t share
the day with me, the way I want her to
It’s not her fault, I know she wants as well
my company in everything I do.
I love my woman, hear me, hear me tell
I love to say, “I love you” and to hear
my woman’s love, the way she can recite
her words as if her love was standing near.
My love would love if I was in her sight.
I am her love, her lover, I’m her man
and I will give my woman all I can!
You taught me “Us;” I love to say the word
I think of “Us” more often than of me
I still remember “Us” the day I heard
Your voice proclaim that “Us” was more than we
The “Us” of me and you is not the sum
of individuals who chance to meet
Our “Us” is more than present when we come
There’s you and me together, loving sweet
We procreate, produce our daughter, “Hope.”
Sweet Hope is Us as well, our Hope is more
than simply overcoming pain to cope.
With you and me and “Us” we will explore
Our life, our Hope we’ll never, ever lack;
Our Hope will guide us out and guide us back.
She knows her man is broken, but, she cares
compassion is her grace, her beauty bright
she talks to him in spite of some affairs
she dreams of him and kisses him at night.
The bed is big and empty when he’s gone
To bring him here would put the world in sync
To lay him on his side or put him on
the bed, the woman, love would be the drink
His pain would all be banished with her wine
His lips would not be parched when drinking her
Though “broken,” he would feel the best of “fine”
A cat, she’d let him pet her skin and purr
An oyster, she would feed him from the shell
And all night long they’d feed each other well.
He used to be a handsome man, but now
he’s broken and he wears a solemn brow.
We used to make our love and feel the joy
but now his life is different; I employ
my absence in the hopes he’ll understand
that being in his life just isn’t grand.
I love him still whatever “loving” means.
I think of him and hope he mends and gleans
an understanding of my absent love
I’m thinking of the things I’m thinking of
He’s not the same; I know he’s not the same,
But I am still the one who knows his name.
It sucks to be in such an awful place
where absence is the only friendly face.
Come write for me, your words come from your soul
I write for you and like to lose control.
I need your words to penetrate my mind
within your words I’m hoping I will find
the kind of girl I’m seeking with my lines
I write in hopes my hope for you combines
my thoughts with what my body knows is real
I write the words I hope you want to feel.
Come write your words upon my naked skin
I’ll write you back by moving deep within
your sonnet. Write a couplet for my lips
and let me taste the rhyme come though your hips.
Come write, come sound your words, I need your sound.
I’ll write for you and lay you on the ground!