gratitude

i feel such gratitude for being where I am.
i want to lay a small token at an altar-
a persimmon, ripe and blushing -
and whisper a prayer of thanks.

But, i have no altar onto which to lay my gifts.
Maybe that is why some believe in God.
So that they may have a single entity
to pay homage to for their happiness.

want #2

i want to linger
on your thigh
with my cheek

i want to worship

at your breasts

with my breath

i want to memorize
every curve of you

with my lips

tears

small specks of
shimmering light

fall like rain -

dancing, at first,
then dying.

want #1

i want the world
to slip away
with one touch
of the tip
of your tongue

...

part
the
air
with your body

take
me
in
with your mouth

suck me
until
i
melt

wet
like
an
ocean

pearls

why can't we have happiness always?
memories of perfect moments.
if I could just carry them always in the palm of my hand -
warm, perfect, small, complete.
but they fade away.
memories is all that remain.

I had love once. maybe more than once.

a spoon and 3 cans of chicken soup.

brought by Mark when I was sick in my first basement suite. He drove an hour just to bring me soup and make me smile. his kind face above my bed, asking, "which one do you want?". presenting me the choice of three types of soup. because he didn't know which would be best.

and Bryan waking up in the middle of the night to my quiet tears of pain over my back. his hands as he massaged me, although he was so tired.

other nights when he would run me a bath after I got home from work. incense and candles and a glass of wine and him listening to me ramble on about my day. he would duck-into the bathroom every few moments to just give me a smile or tell me I was beautiful or that dinner was almost ready.

and the memory of making love with him. it was like a revelation. there were no goals, just the blissful sensation of being so close to another human being.

and my first love, Randy. how he was also the first man I showed my breasts to - shyly and with some shame, worrying that he would think them small. but, instead, he took them to his mouth, like sweet precious gifts, and told me how beautiful I was.

and the first time we were naked together how we held our breath as we felt the warmth of eachothers skin against our own.

and how we kissed on the park bench in the rain and the entire world felt like it was washed away around us. we kissed and kissed for hours and it was so delicious and we felt we could never have enough.

it was all so beautiful. now all these loves are gone, except in memory. how sad. is this how it always is - love's perfection corrupted by human faliablity?

i wish i could gather
all these memories of love up
and string them together,
to hang round my neck
like perfect pearls on a necklace.