Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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Triumphant as rivulets,
They’re only so good as one.
Beautiful? Sure.
But progress isn’t easy
On the slow side that’s alone.
The dragged down.
The fallen.
The desperate stretch for another
To collapse into,
Connect,
Pool together
And conjur the merciful wet
Reminding the numb
Of alive,
Of breathing.
Merge and curl,
Supple flesh heaving,
Muscle tensing,
Mouths joined
in an ecstasy of together.
Sex hot, awake
Yearning in bared teeth,
Fingers flexed,
Nails drawn and pulling
Across the back,
The sweet faith,
The hope
Sung in the clipped breath
Of climax,
Of salty release
And convulsive satisfaction.
Sweet smiles
Beading together,
Running down skin
Like the runoff of effort,
Like the wander of drops
When they discover together.

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