Cream, Sweat, Deodorant Infinity

Oh, the scent of her fall
cream, sweat, and deodorant
by the dark bedroom shadows
or morning living room sunlight
by the calls of our heavens
our ancestors
were lovers and deviants
breasts carved for spaceships
eclipses of planets
asses and shape shifts from
the young to the old
her crow’s feet aside her eyes
by porn star eyeliner
by the vestibule of my biological
carrying
I want her like the sunrise
everyday
for worship
for religion
until I die
or one of the middle age actresses
on “Designing Women”
these impressions are permanent
neural tissues or the Fountain
of Youth

Andromeda Burn

I crossed oceans in your eyes,
felt the sunlight of Andromeda.

But, when it rained this morning
I drowned in the poverty
of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

When will we eat the fancy food
in rooftop cafes, galaxies away,
listening to different languages
of music and of touch,
staring at the beginning?

Andromeda burn,
I am not coming,
it is too late in my life to make the journey.
I will stay on the planet
where it sill rains under gray clouds.
I do not deserve the rain of the
watercolor-green colors,
let her kiss different lips
underneath such vibrant settings.
I like to climb up hillsides on Earth,
feel the dirt underneath my hands,
it inspires me to shape pitchers for water,
to shape them for storage, banquet and orgy.

Gush, gush,
I’m still a water-drinker,
I remember a lady far away in the Andromeda
System.