Like I gave up the idea that schooling & intelligence were related.
That what goes around comes around,
That bad people suffer for their sins.
That good people hold out their hands for nothing.
Now I am free to love who I please.
That its always now or never &
If it isn’t worse than cotton fever or handcuffs from real cops,
Than watching your grandparents, father, family & pets die
Right before your eyes.
Than the looks of disgust I get from strange girls at parties
When they see my tracks & scars.
When your first kiss never wants to speak to you again.
You never do & never know why.
Like when they find the dope, or hear you making love.
When these things happen enough times you find out how silly it was
That they mattered at all.
To be shy to walk around barefoot, to dive into a kiss.
To tell people your fantasies without fear.
To toss aside the baggage of being young, mentally ill & addicted,
Peel off the label & spend the day in bed with a beautiful girl.
Because the pleasure of a single touch can outweigh the finest heroin
When its from finger of a lover, the lips, the tongue.
The bed, the floor, the grass & dirt become altars to Aphrodite.
I want to anoint you in oil & listen to Sonic Youth records.
You can smoke a joint while I kiss the arches of your feet, the ankle, the heel.
Working my way inch by inch to where fire & water meet.
Until you tremble, only my breath warm and near you,
Opening a delicate flower, I inhale the fragrance of fertility,
So slowly I lick. You say “Mhm!” and push your hips into the air.
A teasing brushstroke, hot, wet, fingers exploring heaven.
Taking me out, all ready, even clear liquid drips from the tip
So warm in your hand. Like a tear of lust, tear of jewelled desire
You kiss it so gently my breath is slow motion
I have a humming of angels inside as you lavish me with attention,
I can’t go back, there is no one like you in the past
Your yellow shift, short hair & peeking nipples.
Bare legs & feet, unpolished toenails.
I want all of you at once.
What kind of beautiful madness is this?
–Jack Blare, 2017