Before the Freeze

We have been through a lot, me and you, and I keep thinking about where our friendship began, side one of those two faces that you have used to keep me still in one way or another, frozen in fear or burning up with the flames of desire, and the more I think the more I wish I saw that red mask of anger, face with frowns, deep creases in the corners of your eyes, the more I wish I saw past that cool, ultra smooth you, saw past that blue as a soft kindness, and recognized it as the ice cold shell of your being as who you are, but I had heard it all before, I mean what the others all said, and I hoped I could be the one to get through; wanted to use my love to put some warmth somewhere in you, but you put it in me, cold hearted being with every thrust, the chill of lust taking over the heat of love, snuffing out reality and experiencing euphoria before the freeze.

I want to
lay down with you
the melody of
our love, my love.
Plot it out while you put
it down, dynamic highs
and lows, the
vocal range of notes
we hit as you hit… that…falsetto I
hit… that…alto then
strum that...
string, pluck it, pull it, make it
vibrate. I want to add
that bass, backside boom
to the tune,
bang bang then…smooth.
Additive meter making good
beats better
music moves me,
you,
to our crescendo,
then the song croons as we
ride the rhythm til
if fades

Still

Touch me. Put your hands on me,
trace my body with your fingers, do
anything
to make me feel like I am
really here. Look into
my eyes, not through them,
through me. What we
did was wrong. Both of us.
Not just on me, not just on you,
on him, on her, or her, or her.
So if I can let go of me
seeing her,
arched back on all fours as you
bang-bang-banged her back out,
you should release your mind from
that one time
I went astray. That one time.
See, for you, it was one time, one times
that of the number of the divine, and even that
number could have been a lie, but still,
I tried to forget. And you hear
about my sole indiscretion and want
to clip my wings, toss
me from our heaven. Don’t touch you,
don’t look at you, I am wrong.
I know this, but still not as wrong as
when I opened the door and saw
that hoe
bent over
touching her toes as you
hit that slow-
grind that I hoped was reserved for one.
The sound that escaped her lips matched
mine;
hers of intense pleasure, mine of
agony-
hers a tingling causing her toes to
curl, mine,
an aching that caused my eyes
to blur as she turned
around and her face was a
younger version of my own.
Look at me. You will never see
me the same again?
Keep thinking about
another man’s hands
roaming my wonderland?
What about the time I came
to surprise and supply, had
full intention to lay out an appetizer
now
and give the main course
at home, but you were serving
up a meal of your own; she gladly
accepted your milkshake as her
dessert, slurping up the
last drop as I entered,
wiped her mouth
then I hit her.
Maybe I am the fool, but look at me.
Don’t say I should have left us instead
of hooking up, said something
instead of giving it up,
but you left me with no choice. The image you held
of me is now gone,
my angelic face blanketed
with the darkness of my found indiscretion,
but yours is the same. No shame,
no cares,
it is still the face of the man I love, who
tells me it is over because a person
told you partial truth. Her deception was
not needed, I know you, you would have beat
it then skeeted, then came home and
slept in the sheets
with me again.
And I STILL love you. Do what you will
or what you must, call up your sluts
for a quick nut. Just look at me. Put your
hands on me. Make me feel like I am really here.
Please.