Magic

Tangled black hair in heap mess -

    used to run my fingers through that

black mass of hair -

    occasionally loosen the knots

    of your tension,

                smooth.

These days I’d do it more than

               occasionally.

I’d be the lust under your blankets

twist turn of fleshy shadows.

I’d be the daily reminder of all I

find beautiful in you.

I’d choose a number from a dying

felt hat and wander the lonesome

       earth to find you.

Magic in you.

please,

I can’t take it.

You take my breath away

- - - - - - - - - -

(December 28th, 2011)