Poetry

a brief pause
by Sunny Tawse

I ask him doyouunderstandyet?
doyoufinallyunderstandNOW??
no answer
ordoyoustillhavequestions??
a mumble
yes?? youDO??
a mumble
his punished bottom drifts upward.

why am I not surprised.

under the red light, thick
stripes across his legs, his impervious
man ass, look like nothing
whatever nothing looks like. he doesn't howl
or yelp,
only buries his head deeper against the burn
against the swipe swipe swipe of the crop.
beads of sweat join in the hollow of my collarbone
and trickle down
down down between my breasts, swinging free
I work under the red light,
and he
he helps me find my way.

That Night
by
Randy Burns

Iím thinking about you, all of you. Not quirks and the sound of a voice, but the way you played with me when we played. You know that always worked, even when we didnít. We were sexual companions pre-destined by Mercury.

I never danced before I walked you home that night, never felt so light on my feet. I never floated like I did when you asked me in. Never disintegrated divisions of separate bodies with indestructible demon force. Sexual aspirations demolished filled quickly with unexpected knowledge. It was on that night, the man Iíd always been proud of learned perfection between two.

You and I were one once, long ago. I remember it more than you, Iím sure, but not when you really think.

Return, check your memories, Iím still there. Iím the whistle you hear. The whistle of your past in pieces, so far from you now that only juices are properly recalled. ~