THE WOMAN I'M IN LOVE WITH NAKED, DEEP IN AUTUMN LEAVES

A selection from The Sun Loves Every Planet

As I look through the lens

Searching for

The right reflection of light

To illuminate

The shape of her face

A leaf falls upon her

The moment is perfect

I flash the camera

As she swoons in the devotion

I lavish upon her

Demurely modest and yet

Yearning to be revealed

As the secrets

Of all women’s souls are

 

They’re not really secrets

Meant to be kept hidden forever

They’re more like treasures

Waiting for the right man

To uncover their pleasure

Hoping it is him to whom

She can finally surrender

All the dreams

She held as a child

I took picture after picture

Trying to capture the feeling I had

When I first saw her

The mood of her face

The look in her eyes

That made it impossible

For me to stop thinking about her

 

No matter how many pictures

I take of her

I just can’t capture

Her elusive essence

She takes pleasure in this

Knowing

She gives herself fully

And yet

Can’t be caught

But it isn’t because she withholds

It is simply that her secrets

Have no end

 

The pretense of distance

Brings us closer

Her beauty

Only becomes more clear

Ironic, I know

But that’s the way it is

When you touch perfection

For the first time

Capture just the right look

A moment frozen in time

To be found one day

By a curious seeker rummaging

Through a cedar chest

On a rainy day

Touching the past

And making it real

Like those old black and white

Photographs of hard western people

With grim looks on their faces

 

You just can’t capture

Something like that anymore

Mostly because our faces look soft

Fed on the breast of prosperity

Lacking in the nobility of Red Cloud

A real man who fought for real land

And not just some stupid facts to remember

In our modern history courses

As we look back across                                    

The passages of time

Content with our greatness

Now that we have subdued

The primal forces of nature

So we can gloat and slap

Each other on the back

As we tell ourselves

What great salesman we are

Now that we have conquered it all

Now that everything has been sold

Who will write our story

When so many have already been told

By a few great artists and salesmen

Who seek to sell what little is left

To the generations of the future?

 

The past isn’t just something

To pass the time away

It is as much a part of us

As their past was a part of them

In the way it shaped them

Made them who they were

 

I regain my focus

She is still there

Laying ever so sensuously

Uncovered in the leaves

As only she can

 

I put the camera down

Take off my clothes

And dive into the leaves

For the only thing that is real

The taste of her flesh

The feel of her desire

The warmth of her skin

Welcoming mine