Tip the poem over

but first place the hands of your heart beneath… or your tantalized tongue… or your crown ready to remember its halo

Let this liquid luscious lasciviousness drench you

Oh, yes, yes …

Catch these flighty butterfly words in your lonely hands and gently open that creaky hinge to your secret heart… your butterfly is so happy to come home again

and again

feel her flutters?

If you’re stuck in the dark lost and afraid let that poem (youknowtheoneyouneedrightnow) ignite like a firefly on a warm Maine night nobody here but the smiling stars and your dreams and

these words

oh yes, yes, please

more words please more poems that flood and flicker and fly

It’s never enough

It’s always enough