I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;

But or ever a prayer had gushed,

A wicked whisper came, and made

My heart as dry as dust. (IV.57)

Besnard Lakes – Albatross 



Legs stretched out on white sheets,

Bear the fingerprints on my skin

Of your touch. 

My lips, the thrill of your kiss. 

Your palms; pressing into

The small of my back. 

My nipples erect 

From the circle

Of your tongue,

And the pull,

Of your teeth. 

Across a white pillow,

My raised arms

Claim the memory,

Of your hands;

Tracing their line to

My armpits,

And the bristle of your 

Chin, against my neck.

Touched from within,

When your eyes

Locked with mine;


On my soul.