We never believe
the wetness
of the rain
            : as it pounds against
            : our windows
            : as we peer dryly out
            : at people running
            : huddled
            : wet
            : with only noses
            : showing 

Only when 
           : it rains on us

Only when
            : it washes us away like
            : watercolors

Only then we think that
            : rain
            : has never been
            : so wet




There it is:
the Abyss
benign from a distance
surrounded by
yawning and burping
a welcome

come closer
it beckons
here’s just a whiff
of my supercharged
to redden your nose
with its chill

come closer
it wheezes
come take a peek
throw in a rock
(listen now)
say helloooo

A monster?
well maybe
you’ll just have to see

come closer
come into me

the rhythm of you

I had to get used to
the rhythm of you

the slow build
the sweep
the crescendo
the silence

as if the song were over

but it’s not

you gather yourself
you ponder you sway
perhaps you consider just
walking away

but there you are
in the distance
way down by the bend

That slow sexy build
begins soft
once again

December moon

I don’t know where you are tonight
but that full moon has
sucked you up
and spit you out all
over me

I taste you

I am quenched
in your essence

It’s been so long
so many years
so many moons
have brought you
back to me

and here you are again

it should come as
no surprise to me
by now but then

you always did


like stones inside your head
you said I roll around
their smooth roundness
their cool weight
like a blessing
pressing soft behind
your eyes

is that how it is?
or is it rocks
and jagged heat
scratch and bleed
to blur your vision?

or perhaps some
madding mix of both?

Pleasure and Pain
Fire and Rain

J.T.’s not the only one
who’s seen it all

still shots

remember that I
am only a function
of now
never the same
as ever before

ideas and emotions
floating freely in
and out of



have no expectations

what you see are only still shots

(flip through them quickly:
you will find I disappear)

remember that I
am only a function
of you


How long can a flower last?
These colors once so true
(you brought them to me
fresh, still moist
with morning dew)
have faded into dusty hue, and dry
fragility.  (Yet perfect still!
When caught by sunlight
in a certain way, I almost smell
them fresh again, as on that day!)

Will petals drop and crumble
if not by love renewed?
I wonder how these blooms would fare
if they hadn’t been from you.

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