Circles

There is a ring around the moon,
a silver haze. This means rain, I say
as you bring your gaze to me.

Light swirls endlessly in your eyes.
There is no hope for me at all
if not even the moon can escape
the lure of your irises,

the depth of your pupils.

Later,
I kiss your nipples
and trace the circles
of your areolas
with my tongue.

My flesh aches
and something more than flesh
swells within me.

I want to give you life.

The rain falls around me.
Circadas sing then fall silent,
sing and fall silent
as the world does circles
in the darkness.

San Francisco

Over there, the pier jutting over gray.
Your eyes were sometimes that color.

Salt fog, wind sea, sun clouds
surround me. There are children
in the distance somewhere laughing.

They are so young.
When they see the sea
they see the sea,

nothing more to the glimmer of light
swallowed by the water,
no copper spun in setting clouds,

no hair like strands of copper,
no skin that tastes like the fog.

The beach is for children and lovers.

There might be God in the waves crashing.
There might be you in the sands,
eventually.

Beyond the pier,
sea lions watch
the buoys flashing in the night.

17.12.07