Dream Annex Within the House of My Heart



: to add (an area or region) to a country, state, etc. : to take control of (a territory or place)

1:  to attach as a quality, consequence, or condition

archaic :  to join together materially :  unite

:  to add to something earlier, larger, or more important
:  to incorporate (a country or other territory) within the domain of a state
:  to obtain or take for oneself

Somehow you became annexed

within the house of my heart.


I spent one evening with you

that ended with us lying in bed,

entwined in each other’s warm arms.


That night I soared

on wings of sleep

through a rambling series of dreams

in which you made me laugh,

entertained me with anecdotes

and did not leave me.


I woke the next morning

to find you had moved in

to my inner world.


Now you are dwelling within me

like a part of myself

and I do not know

if I am dreaming you

or you are dreaming me.

It Was Like A Taste

I could write this poem again today

erotica poetica


It was like a taste that appeared on my tongue,

the sumptuous taste of sex with you,

unforgettable, inimitable.


Suddenly that taste filled my thoughts

and I savored it within my mouth,

my appetite whet

to feast upon you.

To eat you.


I was sitting up in bed,

but I lay back into the pillows.

Subtle fabric of desire

covered me like silk,

and I luxuriated in imagining the sensual fibers

of our bodies sown together in tautness,

in delicious pleasure.


I could have drowned

in those opulent thoughts

of fucking you.

My nipples became hard like pearls,

between my thighs I was wet like the sea.

I rode the waves of sensation

as they broke over me,

came gasping

to the shore

of my bed.


Your dream penetrates me so hard sometimes,

touches me deep inside.

You arouse me so much in those moments


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God’s Eye


I weave a God’s Eye

with the strands of my aching heart.

straining to see with the vision of the unseen,

the construction of this wayward pattern,

this painful unravelling.


I dwell inside the dreams of others like a tenant does in an apartment,

renting a small space in which to live.

These walls are not what I would have wished them to be,

if they were mine

I would paint them differently.


I seek solace in myself.

Within my void,

truth rearranges itself,

refining the movements

of its delicate shadow dance,

turning and shifting

with changing gradients

of perspective.


Like the caterpillar in the cocoon,

I am formless,

a nascent fledgling of raw possibility,

just hoping to someday

become a butterfly

and fly free.