Out of the Morning Blues

For Jason



Just out of the morning blues

And with the ring of the phone

Unexpectedly

Surprisingly

Another visit: Unannounced



It takes me three seconds

To pick up the rooms

Ensure some clean towels and soap are still in the shower

Lube in the drawer

The handcuffs and his other toys

On the bed.



It takes him months

To contribute his absolute body

An authentic irresistible offer.

In his flesh

That old flavor of youth

An ancient aroma of rivers buried in the skin

Electric currents lie under his arms



Lover Black Man

Black Man Lover

Man Lover Black

Lover Man Black



Black Man

With more than pillars in your temple

Black man or marble y azabache

Give me your wonderful bone spatula

“Cuz I am ready to purge my sorrows

Let me purify myself before I drink you

Black Beloved Man

Placed

At the intersection of God and Eros

Tell me:

How do you want it today?

Where should I serve you my best?

At the top of the bed?

Or pleading on my knees?



Tell me

How should I wait for you to bleed in me?



In my half-cookie mentality

Imported with the rest

I brought

A fear

A tremor for what I don’t understand

An unnatural trepidation

For all the hidden and the secret



I cannot swim out to sea

Nor can I empty the jar

I am very much still there

As I am in this struggle



So

I don’t understand

Your silences

Your disappearances

Your absences

And then you return one day

Just like that

Out of the morning blues



The Bronx, 2003