Flower

Sinking my fingers into your soil.

Every ridge on the skin of my hands

has become surrounded

by the silky smooth

warmth of your being.

Tender and teasing with

a game we toss back and forth 

at each other.

I ponder the feel of your nose

on the back of my neck.

Do you care to know what

my hips feel like when you grab them?

Do you watch my lips move when 

conversation is afoot or

is it just me?

I glance and let

the gaze rest before you.

My eyes, feasting

upon what ever shade your skin is at the time.

The rasp in your voice

serenades me,

like a hummingbird's wings 

fluttering

by in a jiffy, 

and there's no way for me to capture

a moment in time with you

closer than this distance we've mounted up.

Our translucent walls allow us

to acknowledge

each other's presence, yet

never get close enough to commit

to a memory holding anything dear.

The nearness is never near enough

and the further we continue

this routine, the harder it is

to process that my fingers

only daydream about

gardening in fields.

I can ponder all I want

and become curiouser about

your texture

until my mind goes numb with guessing.

~Tina Meeks 

Feels

 

It was fun when we'd touch 

and my heart would tickle.

You'd grab my attention from the tips

of your fingers.

When you'd speak, 

I'd watch your mouth move

so I can follow when you're taking me

on a journey through your story.

Thank you for your offerings,

for the faint coconut aroma

when we embrace,

for the eye gaze that puts

my mind on hold for long enough

to redirect me to smile.

~Tina Meeks

Secrets

 

I want you at the edge of your seat.

I want you right next to me.

I want you to dance aggressively 

and spin around to fall,

but you'd make it look like a routine.

You do this thing that is a spectacular ending.

Suddenly up,

then down.

Your body is a voice with wind gusts.

Your taste buds are a secret.

You are surround sound.

You are renowned.

Knowledge takes you around the world

without warning.

Will you be here tomorrow?

Tomorrow, will the day bring you here? 

~Tina Meeks

(Unfinished)

 

I like having secrets.

They are the curves at the edge of a smirk to myself,

The reason I keep quiet,

Why I listen first.

The inner demons raise havoc and hands,

going parallel with the thumping

inside my skeleton.

I like the ability to control

the walls I let down and who can enter

and climb up.

I like to dangle people over my cliff

and see if they can handle it.

If someone can bare the brash

and ash 

on the surface of my skin

before attempting to burrow in a place

deep down in the graveyard and marrow.

Assuming some human is a brave enough fellow

to sink in, blindly.

Stick around,

clog my pores without suffocating me...

~Tina Meeks

When I'm Paying Attention

 

For whatever reason,

your body makes me hum

lightly to myself.

Between the toes that

occasionally see the light of day.

The abandoned skin, an imprinted flower

that needs fresh water.

The 5 grey hairs hiding

behind and between the rest.

The best I can do is

construct a remembered section of time

to recreate a moment

that has gathered my smiles

and protected my greed.

~Tina Meeks

The Pull

 

Grasp me like a doorknob.

My body, cold, until coated

with caressive play.

The heated blanket of romance driven

euphoria, lingering between

our twinkling eyes.

~Tina Meeks 

The Body is a Temple

 

If we sat eye-to-eye

in the usual spots on the couch,

our voices would carry and

intertwine into the next hour

after hour somehow.

If our vessels aren't already full,

tomorrow would be a temple of touch.

~Tina Meeks