All of these are about Stephen Carey

Circa 2007.

 
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Tired limbs and sore bodies holding close in tight quarters.

We could feel the gasps of sleep on our faces.

Trying to sneak glimpses of the others sleeping face, quickly shutting our eyes when the others opened.

Pretending

‘No. I wasn’t gazing at you.’

‘No. I wasn’t trying to capture exactly how you look right now’

‘No. I wasn’t trying to drink up the serenity of you skin.’

Fingertips brush across soft shoulders and stomachs.

Silken and cotton sleep wear tangles in arms and legs.

We may be beat from exhaustion and cold.

But it’s hard to sleep when your heart is beating this fast.

Our teeth crash into one another.

The pain shoots up our spines, rushing over our skulls.

We hardly notice.

The intensity of desire and want conquers all other synapses.

We fumble into each other at first, jerky motions and awkward hands.

At least the embarrassment is mutual.

Soon our flush-cheeked self-consciousness is washed away as primal impulses take over.

Furiously our lips and fingertips lick the others.

Before long we are so overcome it’s hard to tell if we are in fact devouring each other.

So fierce and angry with what seems to be our ‘forbidden love’

We hardly notice our bodies becoming bloody and bruised with emotions.

I have missed you so much.

Rene and Claire

Circa I have no idea.


Their fingers are laced together palm to palm.

Their free hands roam each other.

“You smell so good.”

“You smell so sweet.”

Their bodies blush with heat.

Cheek to cheek. Hip to hip. Belly to belly. Body to soul.

Claire’s eyes, soft and blue, look deep into Rene’s, dark and ____.

Rene runs her free hand down Claire’s side feeling ever inch of her goose-fleshed skin, drinking up the map of her body. Claire plays connect the dots with Rene’s freckled shoulders. Rene’s hand rests on Claire’s hip and slyly slides a finger into the elastic waistband of her panties, Claire’s eyes widen. Her lids close quietly and she surrenders herself to Rene’s sweet touch.

Rene pushes her way down the back of the lavender cotton briefs squeezing Claire’s ass while listening to her heavy breathing. Claire pushes her cunt into Rene feeling the uncontrollable pulse inside her, begging for satisfaction. Rene presses closer and slides her finger into Claire’s throbbing cunt. She salivates over the warm wet inviting caress her fingers receive.

Fuck she feels so perfect in my hands.

Claire sighs something holy.

Rene pushes in and out focusing on the rhythmic timing of her tongue circling inside Claire’s mouth. Her pace is slow, deliberate, and cruel. Claries body writhes under Rene’s hands. She lays on her back and watches Rene slide down her stomach, one finger climbs to Claire’s lips she sucks the tip in an unspoken order. Rene removes Claire’s scanties with ease letting them hang off her foot. She inserts another finger and moves vigorously. Rene watches Claire suck her fingers and shudder with pleasure. Claire moans and sighs, so close she thinks.

Rene feels Claire clamp around the fingers inside her. Rene grins and flicks her tongue over Claire’s clit, salty sweet. Her tongue pushes to and fro making Claire spasm and shout “I’m coming... I’m c-c-c-c-c….”

Rene’s eyes widen and her heart jumps as Claire gushes forth the juice of her cunt onto her lips and fingers.

They both take the lords name in vain.

Current status Dr. ?

Circa 2009?


my nose drips like a leaky faucet

like a leaky faucet running in the back of my throat

cigarette smoke drys it up with each pull

my chest rattles and heaves

we are all comatose

all four in separate personal solitudes sitting so closely together on dirty couches

I sneeze- no one says god bless you.

What do you expect in a room of anti-Christ’s?

11 pm Thursday night turns into 4am Friday morning

“JUST BE MAKES ME FEEL!”

Lou reed sickly sings from the record player.

In a silent collective unconscious – we agree

RING RING RING.

The phantoms calling.

Straight to voicemail.

Line after line.

Never runs out.

I am endless with supply.

Prescription Dr. Santa Claws

What is this?

What is this?

What is this…

“and I guess but I just don’t know..”

Tobacco Kisses

I wrote this when I was dating Stephen Carey, the most beautiful swan in Monroe. Circa 2007.


I have to go home she says.

I know, but just a little longer.

There’s no way in hell my mother will believe,

That we got stuck in traffic again

I know, but I just want to hold you a little more

Believe me, the feeling is mutual

But I can’t push my luck anymore.

You know.

I know.

There’s silent upset in our motions.

Seatbelts click and engines warm

As we sit frozen in the quiet of the nighttime.

Cascaded in winters wonderment

Lighting up our complimentary cigarettes

We inhale, exhale and ash our the broken windows

She lay back in the seat

Cradling a headache

Trying to hard to keep it in

Remembering all the moments she would miss

Once you took the highway home

Her gray eyes scanned the skies

She searched for stars, but only found planes

No wishes for longer minutes

Or stolen stoplight kisses

Tonight

Her head on my shoulder

She sighed as she spoke

I don’t want you to go

I know

I know

Huddled and cold we hum to ourselves and make unsaid pledges of honor

We know the weeks will be long

We know the weeks will be lonely

But we can hug pillows and smell our sweaters

To remind us of who we need

My drive home will be hard

And your bed will be empty

Fourteen days ain’t so bad

In the long run…