Precipice
by Ted E.F. Roberts


on the precipice
of a bruised sunset
the sea turns it’s 5 o’clock tint.
we light on the sand,
a collision
of poetry and lust.
parts of me
have missed
parts of her…
her mouth
open like a bitten peach,
her seashell colored nipples
make me forget
there is
too much past
in her present.
she loves me
(comma)
and
i love her
(period).




Obligato
within
this smooth, black-lacquered night
a jazzsax and bent lips
scritter curved notes;
a sequined narrative
a honeyed taste/ a lyrical kiss an aural orgy.
lovers trade
dry mouths/ moist verbs
slow gazes/ quick imaginings
arranged in 12 measures
of lusts and dreams.
ignited by
all things sonorous,
they will
make music
twogether.




Daydreamt while parked at the ocean
the ocean
speaks in the way
we somehow knew it would-
softly breathing a thousand, million blue syllables...
as if
all time began
when we learned the words
for sea and sky
and learned
these infinite shades
of our
sea-sweet dreaming.
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Ted E.F. Roberts spends his time in Florida and Thailand.  Ted’s work has
appeared in Cosmopolitan Magazine, Yellow Silk, Deros, Albuquerque Broadside,
Web Digest, Writer’s Café, Page One and numerous other print and electronic
venues.   Influences include Lifshin, Laughlin, Ferlinghetti,  Neruda, Cummings and
Brautigan. Ted has written Love Etc. and his new book, Poetized, is near
completion.   
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