Amateur

I finally popped this pole-and-platform-shoe riddled cherry -

We made it rain,
while they made it poor...
I probably wasn't drunk enough,
but still haven't found my way back to sober.
There were so many beautiful bodies -
shapes and sizes -
tiny, tall -
Folding bills into their cleavage,
smiling into their eyes.
I thought of you -
conjured
images of us...

I'll have to tell you about it sometime.

Good/Grief

There are no words to make it better.
No words I can hear or speak
that will fill the gnawing emptiness
where you used to be.
Gone are the moments
that used to overflow with
your laughter and lessons and -
         you are gone and
it will never be the same.
It's over and

what reason is there to continue?

Presence

I pile treasures at your feet
attempting to anchor you to a patch of earth adjacent to my roaming roots.
Stay,
I say.
Stay,
I weep.
Be near me -
not always
(I understand that's not feasible
in the surging tides
of this busy world)
but constantly, regularly
be near me.
You calm me, steady me.
You guide me onward;
I follow docilely,
obediently -
hungrily.

Parenthetical Aside

Being loved by her would change a man, I think.

His body wouldn't even keep the same form

as it stretched to contain 

the abundance of adoration.

He would see the world differently,

as he adjusted to the reality that in this other life,

this side-pocket of joy,

that he was the sun and the moon and the stars.

His stride would lengthen, quicken - 

become fully jaunty.

He would be worshipped -

with her mouth, her hands, her words.

He would float above

viewing the whole of his existence from a new angle, 

with her love as the filter 

through which he saw himself and everything around him.

But only if he let himself.

Hypothetical

If even fucking your wife
leaves you feeling shame-filled
and dirty, 
what would be so different?

One love, two loves, red love, blue love

Maybe they are all here
to save me from myself.
I think too hard
and talk too much;
I love in plunges and sweeps -
deep and wide.
I want to pull them all into my world-size embrace
and be adored back with the fervor I radiate.
Am I chasing my own shadow
away from the sunset,
racing away from the perfect ending,
or any ending, at all?
I want to turn back the clock
and live more of this life -
really savor the juicy parts,
the beauty-filled,
luscious parts.
I want to marinate in desires
both those sought and those found.
And through it all,
there is one.