Circles

The Act Of Love Circles that flash with pleasures of fire, Fire that shoots to bowels and brain; Circles of soft and slippery pleasure, Circles that fill and circles that drain. Circles touching with sinewy softness, Softness as hard as ramrod or stake; Circles that sweep to planet’ry heavens, Circles to dream as if never to wake. Circles as smooth

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Trying to forget

Trying to forget but mind is independent of thought, of will Believing, seeing, memories forever Memories conceived in realms beyond human reach or touch So much, so much, too much for mortal man and soul Growing old, watching the sun go down on time Bursting embers, red glow, blotting out human existence, being Born of nothingness, incomplete, never real then, a

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