There is nothing,
but this addiction.
This driving force
it forgoes good intent
to stay away, to just ignore
this all-day ache that grows
from worse to worse
and back again.
I don’t want
to speak
to you tonight
of moon or chemistry,
of souls or complex minds,
but I am marooned
by instinct’s pull
to bow again to you -
the reason for these
stumbling words.
There are things
I should be doing,
away from thoughts
of you, with your hold
as strong as honeydew
that gently catches me.
You are everything
and everywhere.
Lost in you, I am
abandoned in sweet hold -
blind and blurred by the
touch and flood
of you that makes me
forget these things
I should be doing
yet still remain
undone.
We kiss like Chinese fish
Like loaded inkbrush strokes -
Circling grain and ancient turn
(The kind you see in father’s books).
Like loaded inkbrush strokes -
We are dipped and saturated
Playful, but disciplined in arc and flow
Swept below the dark-watered lilies of night.
We are dipped and saturated
Circling grain and ancient turn
Swept below the dark-watered lillies of night,
We kiss like Chinese fish.