Hip
Graceful curve of hip
and the slow slide of soft thighs
Echoes in my eyes

Slow Sex
She moves like slow sex
The kind that lingers until
the body must scream

Beyond Decent
A slow bead of sweat
Slipped down her softly arched back
beyond decent thoughts

Ashes
It is the morning after
rough sheets scratch me and
there are ashes in my nose

The River
The river has died
And the dry leaves are silent
Where have I come to?