On the beach

Engrossed and thrilled
we were both drawing
beautiful shapes
on the smooth, wet sand
with our witness
the sea.

The textures and lines
we created together
felt like the very bonds
that drew us closer
as we became at once
united and free.


But all of a sudden
you stopped,
stared at the pattern
and declared:
«This is pointless!
The tide is coming in!
What a mistake we have made!»

Then, with rational madness,
you erased our fancy world of fantasy
and walked away towards the shade.

To the redmoongrabber

How gratifying,
my dear,
that you should enjoy wandering
through this forest of woe
that you feel compelled to decipher
these intricate lines
that I sew
once in a while.
How lustfully exciting
to feel the caressing presence
of your eyes all over my body

(my skin is made of words,
you know...)


But on these strolls
of your wise, ethereal fingers
on the surface and the depths
of my powerless being
perhaps you don't see
as much as you think you do.
Control is just as vital to me
as it is to you.
However,
the utmost pleasure
comes from yielding,
not from holding sway.


And grabbing,
by the way,
makes a lot of sense.
It all depends
on the pair of hands.