Disinhibition

 In the turbulence
of passion,
moistened skin, 
400 thread sheet count, 
I am happily,
wondrously lost, 
my imagination
and lustfulness 
trying to keep pace
with my heart rate.

After all these 
years, days collected
and stacked
high and haphazardly
as fall leaves 
in November,

this intensity,
this raw disinhibition,

saying things,
moving in ways
that can only 
be earned
through time,

to a climax 
of orgiastic,
timeless ecstasy.

One Last Nice Moment

New Year's Eve
ticking over 
2019 to 2020.

I find my 23 year old 

daughter

who is diagnosed with 

borderline personality disorder

in the kitchen.

I gently hold her

by the shoulders,

look her squarely 

in the eye and say

"Well, on the good side,

God didn't take 

either one of us this year."

She stifles a smile

and tries not to hug 

back,

but doesn't try 

too hard.

Finally caught,

she dismisses me

with a derisive

"Stalker."

That's a good way

to wrap up

2019.