following a picnic, late march.

Mon 2006.05.01
by brian hefele
inkblot clouds
act out a play in old english
that we watch together, alone
in the center of this infinite field
surrounded only by
occasional spring sneezes
the thick grasses
bite at my bare feet,
a sharp sensation that makes me long
for your satin-soft touch
tickling my body
your flesh, a sensual sarong
that slowly slips around and off me,
reveals my subtle side, and
suggests that you show yours
to sate some curious fantasy,
some eager yen
but the inevitable cacophony
of a sky now filled with
cawing crows
quickly kicks me back to this reality
of sharp grasses and inkblot clouds
and an invitingly infinite
with you.
sexy time! this one still works pretty well for me. it is, of course, a bit sexual, and it is, of course, disgustingly romantic on top of that. i think i took good control over my words here, the overall sound and rhythm of this still pleases me years after. the title is successful as an establishing element, though it is also unfortunately a direct reference to a (now-)former anniversary.