Moon Over Still Water

I want to dispense with the lovers in my life,
Paramours of flesh and bone,
Tied to the dirt beneath their feet.
It seems too easy, this blending of souls
The ready matching of organs
This procreative mix of ejaculate.
Meanwhile, you wait tantalizing above it all
The original space tourist, my first nightly visitor
My man on the moon; misloved maiden’s man
Because every man loves a woman.
I ache with the pain of longing,
White and sun hot in my gut, But
Outside me because this others me so
And you stretch me to my ends, Until I am
Ready to burst from this monthly peek-a-boo
Does my urge to be touched lessen this love?
Is every man a better lover in mind than body?

Naked Schoolgirl Blues

I did not know you,
Will never see you again; Except
in your three minutes of infamy
Recorded, shared and stored
For countless replays to
Repressed, unforgiving eyes,
The sight of your virgin,
pubescent breasts burnt forever
into their gluttonous minds,
Your blameless naiveté
Condemned for their amorphous
sexual selves trapped in unending
dramas of utilitarian intercourse
And sublimated self hate.
But I did recognize
The light in your eyes,
The white of Icarus’s wings,
Flying free of the burden of consequence
At least Icarus chose his flight,
You, poor fool, only fell in love.