Mikes Apartment

mikes apartment sonya

2004-07-12T05:14:00.000-07:00

In the private space
Granted to me by Time
My companion is Pretence -
Calling on my old friend, Memory
To provide images
That will recapture the thrill
The excitement -
Feed the desire.

In the haven of a warm room,
I share my mikes apartment sonya solitude
With Vivid Imagination,
Liquid, Sultry Thoughts
Provoking Intense, Silent Conversations;
Exciting, Romantic Scripts
In which I instigate,
instead of wait,
Persuade and arouse,
instead of want and yearn.

The division between
Was
and Was Not,
Did
and Did Not
becomes blurred, unsure,
Until Memory once more returns.

I remember Reality
And in the remembering is born Want,
Satisfied only by more remembering,
Creating more Want.
mikes apartment sonya
The circle encloses
Unbreakable
Unforgettable,
Unrelenting.
mikes apartment sonya

mikes apartment melanie

2004-07-12T05:12:00.000-07:00

Smoky Violet
~

Sultry watercolor exchange
Exquisite ephemeral moments
Pain for pleasure
Reverence in each stroke

Flick of the wrist
Diffused beauty emerges
Blushed renaissance of welts
Perfection mikes apartment melanie within a handprint

Back and forth
Liquid moments progress
Until crescendo of colors
Shine from smoky violet gaze

Surface roles deceive
Under naked eye perception
Teacher needs mikes apartment melanie the student
Mutual refraction of the senses.

mikes apartment sharon

2004-07-12T05:11:00.000-07:00

Aubergine, you bitter fruit that takes a night of leeching
before even vegans can really find you to their taste.
The almost-black mikes apartment sharon shade of purple on your skin,
glistens, swollen and near to bursting,
like a violent bruise.

Threaten me no more with your engulfing hue
speaking of mikes apartment sharon exotic flavors hidden
behind your smooth facade.
Is the white meat succulent
or a retching pastiness
on my tongue?
mikes apartment sharon

mikes apartment gallery

2004-07-12T05:09:00.000-07:00

Flak smatter
hums like hornets
and the mikes apartment gallery night, almost eradicated,
sings

heavy metal hymns,
Harmageddon immortalised
for a tomorrow
that can not listen.

"So this is what it looks like,"
he thinks,
and draws another breath
through a glowing cigarette.

To go out mikes apartment gallery in other flames,
James Dean style.

Lying down,
watching new stars
zig zag swirl
in an insane display
of beauty.

He closes his eyes
and probes the perimeter
of imagination.

Upwards,
towards roaring bumblebees
and shrieking stingers,
delivering the goods
to every man
woman
child
tonight.

Through occupied air
and missile whistle
he pictures
death and dead
falling alike,
battery acid rain
from a reluctant sky.

"It came to this,"
he mumbles to the stars.
"And with each turn
of holy noble intentions
we rust and fall."

"But my legacy is this:
To be the one
who grabbed no rifle
and shot no man,
no hate to no end."
mikes apartment gallery
The cigarette burns out.

He still have minutes.

And the sky
spews stars,
so pretty.

mikes apartment cathy

2004-07-12T05:06:00.000-07:00

Your hand in my waistband
Feeling my hips rolling the sign of infinity
As the tarnished metal bell rings out
Above the muddy glass storm door.

We pass by rows of crinkled, shiny bags
Announcing their new, larger, improved sizes.
I have my mind on mikes apartment cathy yours, even though it doesn’t
Reflect any light.

A furtive glance to see if one would care
If we both stole into the same stall.
Fully aware that we are beyond feigning that we
Obey. We need.

Urgent becomes this. The smell of oily rags
And stale corn nuts cannot slow the release.
Blood flows back into your white knuckles as I drop
My bracelets on the cracked tiles.

With every button, the highway past sheds itself,
Running like a rivulet into the mikes apartment cathy rusty drain hole.
Here the crowded single lane, there Santana skipping,
the hypnotic wiper blades, my poor navigation.

It is now, now, now. It is here, it is the
Fizz and crackle of the florescent lights,
It is your taste, it is your mouth sloppy on mine
Wetting me more than the rain outside.

It is wordless save for unintelligible raw gasps.
Panting dogs off the leash, possessed by a longing
To meld together. Rocked mikes apartment cathy into the scratched
Wall, I see Jenny has a new number.

The flimsy lock rattles its protest as the dinted green
Metal supports our coupled weight, again, again.
Your fingers pinch the humidity from the
Sphere of my red tail. I barely notice.

Bent on bucking, focused on convergence
We could be here with each other, alone, with another.
It matters not. It is the act, purely, truly.
But the come yours, the come mine.
mikes apartment cathy
Distilate our risen pressures into toffee-like
Nothingness. The descent is the thickened essence
Of our purpose, our us, reduced into two beings,
Picking up bracelets off the tiled floor.