Alone Again

Alone again,
naturally, as the Beatles sing,
but is it natural to be alone?
George’s guitar plucks along
dolefully and naked in a single line, alone.

I miss him,
never did while he was alive
but he was the quiet one,
over there on the left, alone
while the others sang together.

Maybe he needed another line
to keep going,
to get on their plane.
A plane of his own, perhaps;
he was different.

I know what it is like
to be alone, so alone
that it almost seems natural.
In a crowd, I’m missed,
missed by them, by him,
always missed.

I never miss him
my man who is not mine (not George),
he’s ever-present
always keeping me company
in my dreams.

For that is where I wait for him (arms open),
he comes when I call,
when I need him
he comes when I want him.
I always do.

The night,
that’s when he is nearest,
I’m alone again while the sun is up
It’s not natural, I plead,
it can’t be.

Keep me warm

It snowed today.

I’ve turned the heat on,
but that won’t keep me warm.
My heart’s numb,
unable to feel,
like a frozen lock.

I’ve lost the key.

Lost is inaccurate.
The key is lost to me;
I know where it is.
He’s stolen it, leaving me
to generate my own heat.

He can keep it.

I’m addicted to that one love.
I’ll not look elsewhere,
but I’m happy for someone
to keep me warm,
deep inside.

No ties.

That’s right, I don’t need them.
You heard me right.
I’ve got one already
and it’s got me grounded,
wings clipped.

That’s plenty for me.

There’s food here on the surface,
pleasure without consequences,
physical stimulation,
keep the blood circulating,
my juices moist.

My fantasy.

That’s better, right here,
keep me warm and tender,
taste me, all of me,
I’m still sweet,
lot’s left in the tank.

My desire.

Inflame me,
Take it all and hang me to dry,
work me,
build up a good sweat,
like mine.

Give it to me.

All you’ve got,
fill me to overflowing.
I want to swim in you,
and you in me,

Up in the air

while still rooted.
Forgive me if I think about him.
I can’t forget who holds my key,
but I still need you.
Keep me warm,

but not dry.

Full Frontal

in one of those moods, I can’t help it,
driving to distraction down a cul-de-sac
thinking too much, too focused

on him, holding me,
his warmth, his scent,
the sound of his breathing

mine quickens

in bed I lie awake
he is my fantasy
was my reality long ago

I’m warm, so is he
at home in his bed
heart in mine


I can hear it
speeding along with mine

his touch, remembered
there between my breasts
softly stroking, feels my throb

in the liquid darkness
a moan, a question
yes, my answer

always yes

it’s been so long
always yes, forever
I part

he fuels my storm
my swell
an earthquake

his gift accepted
the past
a present cherished


I’m a damp pool
my bed soaked
must wash the sheets tomorrow

I am weak
push relentlessly
he is constant

I wish

the glint of his eyes
just out of reach
he knows

I’m in one of those moods again,
and my desire consumes me
come to me in my dreams,

my love


it’s just me you get today
sex-starved and a raving lunatic
naked as i slept last night
some days i just can’t put anything on
until noon when i snap out of this funk

it’s just me and my laptop
warm against the skin of my thighs
my window on the outside world
and your window into my soul
that’s you right there between my legs
enjoy it while it lasts

right now i don’t care whether you are man or woman
you are right where i want you
cuddled up with me in my bed

but it’s just me you are getting
no punctuation or caps
and just the stream that’s in my head
a stream that’s raging white water right now
threatening to take us under
yes you and me together

i’m on the shelf now
on the shelf that I put up with him yesterday
watching him with her sleeping in
he brushed up against me
several times while she watched us
not seeing the tide that was approaching its crest

he kissed me a happy new year
on the cheek dangerously close to my lips
i don’t think she saw my tongue that slipped out playfully
or the angry look that burned in his eyes
it was too dark
but i knew i had to leave or i would explode

erupt as i am now
with you my reader
my lover
in the only way i can
to stay sane
with you

you at my fingertips
accepting you
as you accept me
bare unfettered
jumping off the shelf
into your arms
i love you dear reader
i’m yours

Bare feet

He said he preferred blondes.
I dyed my hair.
Blondes with blue eyes –
blue contact lenses.

Tall women struck his fancy;
all the better for me,
and flat-chested –
I was definitely in.

When he met her,
she was all the things I wasn’t, couldn’t be.
Her brown eyes and hair enchanted him,
and her intellect, I couldn’t compete.

Silently pleading,
he was mine, would always be,
I watched her take him.

I am not ashamed.
She knows me and understands,
she says. It’s not right.

This time of all times,
he is not my destiny …
well, not in that way.

She holds, but we share –
Part of him belongs to me,
a part she can’t touch.

I had my chance,
but he fell in love with my feet,
kissed them, worshiped.
It’s our secret.

Hers are thin and long,
as long as mine,
but too big for such a small frame.
He never fought for them.

He knows what he’s missing,
as I constantly remind him,
and she’s none the wiser
when I remove my shoes.

Red Suits Me

I used to wear black,
mourning lost virginity.
Can’t have it back now.

My blue dress is creased,
stained and torn.
I loved it more than him,
tho’ it clashed with my hair.

My happiest day –
I wore white at my wedding;
stiff now, discarded

like the man.
Gone, forgotten,
he found someone else
before he left.

Suitors come and go,
replaced like my worn high heels;
never make the grade.

Never as good
as the one I missed,
almost had,
ran out of time.

Stopped painting my nails.
I’ll window shop from now on;
he’s there within reach

Separated by the glass.
I watch, wait, want,
live for the day
I can wear red again.

As long as it takes

My heart belongs to one only.
I stand at the window
watching from the crisp air
of the frosty sunrise.
He is mine – on loan,
until he’s ready.

Spring will turn summer
and he’ll come out to play,
but it’s not a game,
never was.
This time it’s serious.

Sitting in the restaurant
at our table
he will come eventually –
he’s been delayed.
It was unavoidable.

No blind date, this –
no Jimmy Stewart;
I don’t need that rose.
I’ve waited forever.
I will wait more,
as long as it takes.