Can you hear?
Moon displays her inbred grace
unconcerned with life’s distaste
at how she never falls to ground
to shatter my belief
that somewhere way up there on high
is where two lovers meet.
I know I’m me both here and there
but like the moon I shrink/enlarge
mind’s reach and stretch, capacity
to know the more of who you are
when stripped down to the core
by the hands of passion.
(Photograph by Frank Bennett, New Zealand)
Such hands they are like sharpened knives
that hack and cut skin, bone, sinew,
to finally reveal the heart
that pumps despite your disregard
for its unspoken needs.
Listen! Can you hear
how the chains of self imposed restraint
bang and clang against the bars
placed strategically to trap a need
in the realms of fantasy?
‘tis not a fantasy that bleeds
or breaks upon the rocks of need
but just a heart that surely feels
it should be taken seriously!
Listen! Can you hear?
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