Relentless longing
surges through bitter,
hardened arteries
of a choked and breaking
heart; fingers
fight through a dark,
heavy haze of doubt
and tightly grip this gateway
to your distant placid embrace.

A mind full
of dry desperation
begs for the steaming shower
of your speech;
each word cleansing,
revitalizing the withering hope
held captive by boundaries
of a reality keeping us
apart.

The odd,
"off" ring—
your cautious, timid
greeting.
My eyes open
and you are there
before me, burning brightly
melting my heart
within me.

The ticklish flickering
red-wax flame
dances closely with the stereo's
soft, steady glow while the sweet
scent of jasmine chaperones
us all from doing anything "improper."

Your amazing
endless sonnets
sweep me off balance,
forcing me down; your
power, your passion--
the simple whisper
as you draw another breath
punctuating the sentence
of my blazing
aching desire.

The pounding morning
wind rushes outside,
following my heart
above the currents and
coral dividing
these sacred moments
that define our time together.

The magic of sound,
of your sound
clings to the broad straining
shoulders supporting my life of frigid
mundane logic; soothing them,
then revealing
a beauty, a warmth,
awaking this unknown passion--
your life
resting beside
my own.

The static-filled silence
draws us still closer together;
I pray you can not hear
the happy tears sliding down
my stubble-filled cheeks
above the din of hurried traffic
below; your innocent,
teenage giggles drawing
my grin into full-blown joy.

The shy 15-year-old boy
escapes from a self-imposed
curfew, racing along with his heart
to embrace the warmth
of your laugh—aged cynicism
and bitterness slipping through
his toes, as he is released
from the dusty closet
of adult objectivity.

Blind to your physical form,
your heart openly models for the
true portrait I’ve painted
of your absolute beauty,
now forever framed
within my mind.

Your voice,
your carefree, caring spirit
illuminates my former
dark and solitary passage
as the taper clings mightily
to his last moment of life;
slowly dying along
with my doubt.
The jasmine now
displaced by the heavy musk
of pure desire pouring
from every excited inch
of my recumbent
sprawling form.

Sipping honey
sweetened lemonade,
Inhaling even more stale
burning tobacco,
I lay quietly holding onto
your every word;
each a kiss
slowly lingering on your
hot enticing lips.

My lonely yearning
threatens to pull me
into your arms
through our modern tin can set
as you unwrap
your hopes, your dreams
colored and shaped by your
brilliantly honest perspective.

The seconds of our embrace
stretch into hours,
and 45 minutes of avoiding
"goodbye"
finally ends as we race back
to the old cold electronic
couch and again bid each other
farewell.

I sit smiling and weeping
trying to hold you through
plastic, metal and glass, knowing
I’ll never touch anyone,
as you have touched me.