what does it feel like to be alive?

… Living, you stand under a waterfall. You leave the sleeping shore deliberately; you shed your dusty clothes, pick your barefoot way over the high, slippery rocks, hold your breath, choose your footing, and step into the waterfall. The hard water pelts your skull, bangs in bits on your shoulders and arms. The strong water dashes down beside you and you feel it along your calves and thighs rising roughly backup, up to the roiling surface, full of bubbles that slide up your skin or break on you at full speed. Can you breathe here? Here where the force is the greatest and only the strength of your neck holds the river out of your face. Yes, you can breathe even here. You could learn to live like this. And you can, if you concentrate, even look out at the peaceful far bank where you try to raise your arms. What a racket in your ears, what a scattershot pummeling!
It is time pounding at you, time. Knowing you are alive is watching on every side your generation’s short time falling away as fast as rivers drop through air, and feeling it hit.”

– Annie Dillard –

you cum to me in dreams…

You are the colour of wheat.  The hairs on your arm make me think of grass and singed hay and I smile when your cool touch reminds me of dirt. I don’t know why but I like you.  I like us. I want to belong to you. I want this to matter.  I want you to smile at my arm resting beside yours and forget this place where I live.  This silky that rolls over and about my bones, that slithers over my blood, that sighs and lolls about in the hot glare of other men’s eyes.

my dreams

temple storm…

storm-strewn & slick
raven tendrils
plaster temple walls
lusty incantations moan
pillage
compel
revolutionize
disciples to the cause
spread the velvet dawn
eke out the rites of spring
‘tween sheets sodden with seed
sing
sing
a song of songs
my lover
my sweet
sing to me a new song
storm-strewn & slick
sing

– by Lola Moi –