she calls me her desire

but on will or whim

I depart

for so fierce is our longing

has been from the start

*

It’s in The Dreaming

   a narrow lane I just walk

   to hear the softness of feet

against a marble arch

a twofold whisper

   in an amphora I once opened
   molded ashes

of unspoken words

at each stride I falter

in breath and rhythm

 a hunting bow sounds

 a game well played

 a truce never written

in twofold signatures

her arrows are a mangle

 a teasing banner

flame on high!

*

a stillborn momentum

between our chests an echo

a Taiko drum

spirare

a brimming gale rarely seen

in a touch gentilis

on my bow arm

a hefty burden

and oars align

to shift these hands

a luminous neck

gives us hold

to intertwine

in step and turn

part those lips

off bone and marrow

*

direction crumbles

as each curve strikes

our passages crashes

as we gather

lay into each other

and crave and rut

inspirare

the sun runs

through tingling fingers

beyond crossed hopes

we sing with the rivets

bolt and thrusts

as each sway burn