Saturday, June 6, 1998

Michelle

Michelle

Michelle, my shell
my conch
I hear the sea
slipping through your whispery lips,
waves of softening sound
undulating over the crests
and the troughs of your skin.
Your alluring humidity
utterly delicious
right down to your foamy
crushing mound.

You lay
under the moon
drawing you to me
waves of emotion wash over me
mounting and receding
swelling and sinking;
drinking from
your lips,
amaretto
sweet.

We frollick
and thrash
and pound
and polish
until there is nothing left
but a saltbed tideline of our love.

Michelle, my shell
my conch
I hear your calls
ringing from your unadorned
and alabaster ears
coddled and cockled,
labial folds of skin
spiralling into night.

I find my echo
in those pearls
I find my own loneliness
and strength
and determination
curling into the walls
of your inner most
Michelle ears.

Michelle, ma belle
let us be old
and young
and forever.
Let us be free
and savor life;
committing to each moment
and to each other,
each hello
each goodbye
each bitter-sweet parting
and forever rejoining.

Michelle, my shell
my conch
How I can float by you,
in your suits and booties
dark and sweet, like the coffee you drink.

You were a gentle and bright eyed
tyrant to see
How dare I
the soft world you held,
tending patiently
inside your baby wiped shell.

I want to hold and coddle you
and know you perfectly;
know your secret grottos
of desire
and passion
of love
and life.
Michelle let me hold thee free.

I want to peel away
your shells Michelle.
My shell,
my me.
And your shell Michelle
silently to see,
to see what we can see.

Come let us see
see what shells we can shed
and set a sullen drift
undressed in the bed,
Michelle O sully vain
just you and me.

A great drifting sea
Michelle, my shell
just you and me.

Where are you taking me
Michelle, my shell?
We’ll just wait and see.

We’ll see what's to see
beyond the shell of your shell, Michelle
just you and me.

Michelle my me
Just you shall see
Just you Michelle
Just you and me.

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Monday, February 23, 1998

Grandmother

Grandmother

Grandmother, you gave so well, much better than you received
Keeping the happiness that behind you leave
To your sad parting we give this final plea,
May you rest in peace this night

Good sister, mother, friend and wife
In your fierce strength we all believed
You gave so well, much better than you received

Frail life, when last I saw you lay, without gown of lustful light
Too late for tears or sorrow, or talk of would or might or morrow
Though we stay on and wake to fight, you go where we must follow
May you rest in peace this night

Your spirit’s flight
Leaves us in the wake of the bereaved
For you have gone to your final retreat
Where nevermore your eyes shall burn so bright
From when you gave so well, much better than you received

Your life was not a sonnet, though no less beautiful or brief
You never cut words to form or fashion, not even in the least
You held your pains in check of silence
Refusing all but grief
You always did what you knew was right
May you rest in peace this night

But hark Grandmother I will remember thee
Your clock, your candles, pale pictures and Paris scene
Indeed I've held your hands in mine
Like great and fallen trees of knotted branch and bark
Frail legacy of touch whispering of a time I shall not grieve
When you gave so well, much better than you received

Grandmother, you gave so well, much better than you received
Now bless our tears, our feast of life, from that far off distant height
And let us all pray together Grandma
That you rest in peace this night

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