11

On nights like these when forgotten ambitions sweep through my mind
Like a summer breeze,
Preserved paradises lost project with
The reds,
The yellows,
The blues,
The blacks;
Leaving imprints of nostalgia on a weary heart.
My younger version caught with his inner microscope
The glimpses of sensual thighs,
Pleading for a boys true touch.

The young, nervous boy, with optimistic eyes
Spoke volumes through his minor motions
Of innocent intentions,
Seducing salaciously
With his wandering
Fingers of fortitude.
Repressed and restrained workings
Wound the woman tight as the tremors
Of tact nearly subdued
A young boys delightful ploy.

Lets just have fun:
The keys that opened the silhouettes,
And shadows of intimacy
Presented on blank walls
And retro bus-seat furniture
And plush rugs
On hardwood floors
In front of windows
With open doors

The frenzy of youth
Mingled with the
Song of experience.
Marvin sang the joys,
And the Joys
Sang out the boy's
And did not stop
That one summer night.

Pink bunnies with drums;
A knightly theme
Recognized and, on this night,
Actualized!
And the music rang loud
In the crumpled sheets
And deformed pillows
As the sweat dripped lovely.

Two trains united in motion
Traveling speeds the same
And thrusting forward
Into the mysteries
Of the unspoken
And demands
Of the unseen.

Space and time
Suspended
Dangling dominantly
In the continuum
Of movements
And breath.

X-Game-style, upon a rock
The boy reaches
And grasps
And pulls
His body

Koala-clinging, upon a tree
The woman
Holds tight
And just might...

Her ivory
Penetrates
The skin

His howl
Echoes:

Ecstasy!

Rooftops

I remember those days when the elevens counted down with a fondness that cannot be captured entirely with words. It was around that time that my love for New York City peaked and placed its stake deep into the veins that flow throughout. When morning came, the one night marriage of ones became everlasting morning of bliss. Conversations and intimacies continued through the morn and as noon approached we slowly assimilated back into reality and parted ways. The walk that morning can probably be more accurately described through song, specifically of the Rolling Stones Variety: Waiting for a Friend- not so much because of the words, but the overall feel of the song. But if that was the song for that first night of intimacy, (and sticking to the stones) Wild Horses may be an accurate description of the next encounter (again, not necessarily for the words).

I have to say that I don't remember all of the details but will try to relate the ones that I do. For her birthday she received top-notch seats to The Producers. She invited me to accompany her and I agreed. After the show, we went to the bar where the hot dogs are free. Being a poor college student at the time, I wasn't able to afford much. We had two drinks a piece and a bunch of hot dogs before I ran out of enough money to buy anything else. We put our change together to share a third drink before going back to her apartment. When we arrived at her apartment, we drank red wine and danced the tune of excited lovers at a fifties swing club. We shared a brief embrace on her retro couch and then, as I started to make further advances, she pulled away and and this was what drove me wild, she went to her window, opened it and climbed out to the ledge. I followed her as she climbed up to the rooftop with her black sandals in her hands and we sat alone on that roof with our feet dangling off the edge, talking until the sun rose. I dont remember any of the words that were passed that summer night so cherished in my memory, but I do know that we shared the closeness of another world that night.