Poems

by Bernard Dewley
(12/14/05)

 
 

Waiting

...through three red moons.

The tides rising fast,
crashing higher on my hips.
Your fingers ever deeper in my mouth.

It's finally dawn,
and the color of sleep.

(Don't) make me beg. I will.

                

Listen

Pin back my arms hands knee me to the wall
push deeper into darkness- past the choking
where chests open into cages of light- shadows
flicker as you stand above me, hair mussed-
commanding. Always the good boy, I listen.
And swallow.

 
 

©2005 by Bernard Dewley

                                                                                                                                                                                               

Reader Comments

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Bernard Dewley is a poet and short fiction writer living in Miami. His work has previously appeared in Word Riot, Swell, Altered Esthetics, Get Underground and UniverCity. He has been a featured reader at numerous venues, including The Wallflower Gallery, Nuyorican Poets Cafe, and Leslie-Lohman Gay Arts Foundation. You may visit his Web Site.