I found
his lips
cushiony
and damp and
right under
his nose
I found
his lips
on my lips
sideways
moist and
slippery
our lips
open one
by one
I found
his lips
on mine
for minutes
for hours
opening
for tongues
and twirlers.
Category: First Love
Loving Men-Lust
It percolates
in my mind
knock-knocks
of past passions
it broils
like a steak
sizzling
and when cooked
is warm and pink
and juicy like lemons
tart and pungent
it swells overflowing
the levee of good
decision
breaking the dyke
it overflows
to my stomach or
lower, somewhere
lower
overpowering.
Loving Men-Rodrigo (Concave/vex)
A man’s body is simply concave/vex.
When I watch Rodrigo slip out of his undershirt nightly, I see a pair of wide shoulders become bare. These shoulders are capped by a beanie of muscle. Muscle he uses daily to lift, to haul, or, nightly to push and pull.
They are convex.
When I watch Rodrigo watching me, I see his eyes. Magnificently brown and almond-shaped.
They are convex.
At night, under the sheet from our bed I feel his buttocks. Flexing and relaxing they are simply muscle.
They are concave.
In the twilight and glistening with goose-flesh, I see Rodrigo’s face. His lips: a pair of smiles. His hollowed and haloed cheeks.
They are concave.
Men’s bodies are elegant and simple geometrical shapes.
Loving Men-Rodrigo (Shoulders)
They span a broad
torso like a trifecta
of mountains: Left,
Center, and Right
The Center Peak
is covered in thick
waves of brown
that swirls like the thick
vapors of Jupiter
The left and right
peaks
are twins from afar,
but up close they
are as different
as the eyes or ears or
hands or feet
The oasis of clavicles
adorn the base of
Center. Waterfalls
cascade from the rivers
mouth and through fleshy
arms
The Three Peaks
of the shoulders
stand proud like
the fleshy florets
of broccoli
Loving Men-Rodrigo (Aromas)
He wore
a sweater of mine
which holds
his aroma of yesterday.
Warmer today it
harbors his day.
Inhaling the cashmere
I sense chili and cigarettes and
sweat.
He held
a pillow of mine
which holds
his aroma of last night.
Cooler this morning
it mirrors his night.
Inhaling the cotton|
I sense dreams and sweat and
passion.
He covered
himself with me
which holds
our aromas of tomorrow.
Hotter today
it promises our future.
Feeling each other
I know tomorrow and tomorrow and
today.
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 