Last night & Refrain

Last night
by Aaron B Jackson©

We tasted each other

Without hands

Allowing love

To be made in plural

Refrain

In her reflection,

I find resurrection.

The answer to the riddle

of my middle,

merging into,

what will become.

Red wine

relaxation

through pulled blunts

exhalation,

reflecting

upon

specific stagnations,

touching sensually

fused sensations.

Messages eluded

a massaged

hypothesis,

forming a convoluted irony,

burning back to enlighten me.

It is she.

Liquidating emotional constipation,

that leaves

vaporized

through laxatives

of telepathic variations.

We play,

stationed two,

on a couch not large enough

for a future

vision of three.

Deciphering the lies of the little,

whittle,

riddled,

Middle.

Placed in between always unseen

inhalation of lamentation.

Burned behind

the presence

of creation’s

imitation,

through her

sage incense

asphyxiation.

Once a man searching for his hood

until

I found mine

inside of her whisper.

Hush,

as the moons glide across her sky.

In the present’s

presence

edutainment was

learned.

Watching how she breathes when she
is asleep,

waiting for when we

might rock knock

the boots

booming

in the jeep’s

backseat.

The orbits are rotating while the blunt is

passing

through reality.

The way she breathes at night is
poetry!

Cascading,

flowing,

following,

the pronunciation of

Shakespearian

roaming.

The water falling off

the resistance

of existence.

Subsistent

on help, to understand God’s plan.

Wondering all the while, if,

Help, really is on the way.

In her reflection,

I find resurrection.

The answer to the riddle

Of my middle,

Merging into,

What will become.

While

tongues deliver

shivers,

to rivers

with loaded quivers,

passing Moses,

sailing abreast of Ulysses.

Watching sea’s parting, robbing,

Jonah of his fried fish feast.

The presence of her energy

smells like Christmas morning,

complete with the

roast beast.

She is the catamount

perched on a white capped mountain
top.

Dripping a

cool spring water essence,

of matriarchal

calming presence.

Heaven’s treasure of forgotten
vulgarity,

leaving me and these dreaming eyes
of mine

combined in

chocolate covered dreams, dreamt of
cherries lover leaves,

falling through fall’s mall

fusing Adam with Eve.

In a ribbed decadence,

surrounding short hills

with valleys,

rallied together

mentally spending time

past sidewalk ending. Embracing

the wild things,

where, or whoever they are!

In her reflection,

I find resurrection.

The answer to the riddle

of my middle,

merging into,

what will become.

We wondered what we’d win,

after the Vote came in.

The miscounted

counted into

ballots of affection.

Broken up

into new ideals

simply so we could recreate

the power bond

surrendered

reluctantly

after

the first

immaculate conception.

Proudly exulting

in orgasmic

resurrection.

We take our vacations

on the national geographic channel,

it’s cheaper,

and

SHE understands that!

Elemental desires

have channeled

the fires,

plying the pliers,

prying the priers,

frying the friars.

A suspension of

hesitation,

providing cupids

preordained

prescription of a lethal injection.

A 1-2 combination

towards the mid-section.

A T.K.O,

2nd round,

I survived the first

so we could give birth

to

divinity.

Love,

left,

lady

luck

laughing,

bathing,

in her

self-prophesized

spiritual

cleansing.

She is the beginning

and end,

brethren

in this heathen’s

heaven,

blocking out the possibility of deviation.

(Because)

In her reflection,

I find resurrection.

The answer to the riddle

of my middle,

merging into,

what will become.

Aaron is working on his first book of poems. Please visit his site at www.middlepoet.com