Why

Why?
So fascinated by what they do
What they say
What they mean
What they don't
Behind your back?
What are you
To them
Who are they
To you?

Why, so fascinated by titles
Titles that spell out
The work you do
Those silent nods
Of affirmation
Sickly stale status
Soaking you dry
Or are they
What you need
To get to work
Everyday?

Why?
So, disspelled
By her beauty
By the form of her
Simmering flame
Stuck next to you
In a photograph
That will wither
Thin
Faster than her
Firm breasts
Fast hips
Feasting thighs

Are you so sure
She is not eating you
While you  eat her
Or it another hunger
Another need?

Naked

I like the sound
Of a naked cry
Of a newborn, gurgling
To make sense

I love the hiss
Of ripping breeze
Of the way
It rocks my crib

Of waves
Smooching the shore
Like Medusa's fury, curling up
Serpentine

To spend her last night
With the moon