jayivan

your insistent grip
fastens hand to hip,
i graze your earlobe
with my lip—-—

Easy days of light,
biking, breathing, making right.

the Red Dragonfly
shudders on yellow deadheads,
bowing to Blue Sky

Shirtless in the sun,
Winds wade through river grasses.

The sun hides, winds rise.

knowing stares
for all their cares
miss the plain truth

urged forward by necklines
draped in muscled veins
clothed in lust-softened skin

the fireflies are first to go:
to flee the summers dimming light
and ride the updraft’s cooling flight

my motivations are twin:
thick parallel brush strokes
upon a tall white canvas,
the ink—
murky and thick—
stirred by the coarse black hairs
bundled tight,
seeks to seep
atop your canvas skin
into the threadbare hollows within