She breathes deep the sounds of her hot Texas sun in summer. The cicada in chorus, the city sounds and hot sidewalks close by. The nettle, the long grass she hates to cut, keeping in conformity. She thinks of the work ahead, so much she wants to do. And in her silent sweating she drifts, tom and ziggy humming faintly, barely reaching her sun-kissed smiles as-she dreams softly of nines and cowboys and the water. Her shoulders ease and breathe quickens and spirit yearns lost in so much so fast. But she denies and waits.

Capricoan, July 31, 2004; Daily Singles: Who let the monkeys out of the cage? And why is one of them wearing your bathrobe? And how does anyone expect you to get anywhere with all the madness in your midst?

HAHAHAHAHA, what the hell does that mean?

The moon, large and full tonight, startling.
I thought of you, cowboy, hoping you stopped to look up.

Bit nervous. Bit shy.
Tongue tied is not like me.
How curious, exciting.

What did you dream of?
Fields of tall grass swaying in cool breezes
And the sun
Bright and warm on my face
I was smiling broadly
Watching the buffalo graze.

And his eyes were closed, lips drawn tight
There was no ghost in the shell, no peace of features.
This is not him. This is not him I told her
While she cried “Is so unfair” in her little girl voice,
In her broken English.
“Hush now,” came the tender thought filling my ears,
“I am simply moving on in a different way.”
And i wondered if the words were just for me.
His death fuels me with passion and new resolve.

Parched lips wetted with pink
Tongue
Over soft exhalations, heart beating and shallow breathing
Months of silent slumber
Interrupted
By one tall drink of water stepping casually through and
Turning coolly toward her
Desire.

I build my pyramid from the top down
Of a motley crew churning water like blood.

Martin knows by the verbal lows
And hushed breath what is happening
Rather he would know if he could.
Where are you, friend, have you lost me already?
Are you settling into your new groove
Or biding time.

In sweet sadness I watch the little hearts grow
And move on and I am proud they called me what they would.

My girl in her new life touches base
But I see joi in her eyes sparkling
In wonder I miss and yet am finding within.

It gathers dust, that long list of numbers as yet uncalled.
Options residing in limbo.
I don’t think you realize the difficulty of what you’ve fallen upon.

As yet unrealized, the numbness seeps slowly back and to the left leaving Breasts gently, their rise and fall of silent shimmer.

Her voice left small and weak, as
Cool fingers trace figure eights in too hot flesh and
Hands tremble as her heart beats fast into history
Pink tongue moistening parched lips
And the fire burns in embers, ash not stirring.
Beating off to deep tones commanding
She comes undone softly, sweetly, openly.

Hushed now, the morning will turn
Cold and damp while coolness seeps
Into linens sweetly scented
Freesia.