by Robert Lloyd Jaffe
Amid the lonely lake
and fears
I drink black drink
and suck my salty fingers,
wet from tears.
To give pardon my desires,
that I could not fake
while you lay there
breathing, panting,
sweating--me inside you;
You, me,
and that shadow of the lake.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
I am an observer and listener of the music of life. Where I find cadence, I find my interest and passion directed. It can be sound, light, smell, or purely an experience of thought. The sky, the sea, the mountains, and the machines that allow me to explore those places draw my attention, and give me serenity.
Last updated May 06, 2016