Archive for April, 2003

a simple beat begins
his body moves in time,
rolling and rocking,
he is a train pulling from the station.
her eyes find his,
her hands, his face.
the beat fills their bodies.
as it mingles with more music
their focus on reality subsides.
only they are left,
a dance floor full of two.
he moves his body close to her,
she responds in kind.
letting the beat be their guide,
their bodies undulate together.
a gentle touch between them,
clothing scraping clothing.
a thigh chastely touches a thigh.

the beat begins to quicken,
his hands encircle her waist,
her arms around his neck.
bodies grinding together,
the beat has found them,
infected them with movement.
moving with the music he
slowly sinks to his knees.
his hands on her waist, her hands
on his head, pressing it to her
her cool, bared mid-riff.
the sweat of his brow mingles with
the sweat of her body, creating
a heady concoction.
he begins his ascent, trailing his
lower lip up her stomach, across her

The beat surrounds them now,
a dance mixed just for them.
holding each other it
pulses, it
builds, it
engulfs them.
this beat is for them,
a single beat in time.
it may be the only beat they ever share,
but they know what it means.
their bodies know what it means.
they share this beat openly
with each other.
no voice,
no sight,
no smell,
no taste,
just touch.

and touch is all they need to
share this beat between them.

I sit in my chair, my lofty perch
and conceive of plots to introduce
myself to her.

I continuously glance in her direction,
hoping that all I need to do is catch
her eye and smile.
And I think that if I can do that, she
will instently warm to me, see the charm
in my disarming smile.

The more I think about it, the more brazen
my plans become. I think that if I just introduce
myself, I will win her.
If I just walk up, sit down and beging talking
to her, she will see the follies of her lonely
ways and warm up to me.

I prepare grandiose speeches on the beauty of her eyes
The fluid motion of her body, the way she looks
in a certain angle of the light.
All of this mindless posteuring keeps me from
noticing that she has now taken her leave of this
place and me.