Rapture Me

Your voice purrs intimately,
soft rasp in my ear. Vibration
slides inside my heart, moves
my soul to weeping, strokes my
body to deeper craving. Awakens
my desire to feel
soft skin over hard muscles.

You remind me of the big cats.
A tiger I’ve wanted to touch
since youth — never fearing
the shimmering-bright cat
sky-bright blue eyes
soft-subtle purring
turning to devouring
without warning because
wild lives within
deep masculine brilliance.

I wonder why dangerous
exotic beasts rapture me —
(and I reach out my hand).

Your voice purrs intimately
in my ear as my body melts
into the sound of you
talking about nothing
as your words enter me.

September Afternoon

You are my quiet obsession. A mist

of mirror and memory that I return to

in my mind (heart) – that warm, vague

shadow I cling to: when my true world

stagnates, bores my senses. I call you

from that place of tedium . . .

know the faster heartbeat, breathless gasp,

flood of memories will surge to lift me

past today, this place — stable and solid.

Your voice on the phone —

a bright, hot, rushing wind that carries

me up and away to other places.