Tag Archives: love

Gist

Posted on February 23, 2018 by John Biscello

The manic blush and titter of young love is no serum nor mirage, but rather the gist of bloom martyred so soon to thorns.

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Cherish

Posted on February 23, 2018 by John Biscello

This side of dream, to marvel in sheer trespass and longing, to engage the mystery and riot of skin, by touch and flagrant cherish.

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Daniel and Anya

Posted on February 22, 2018 by John Biscello

(Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn.)    Anya melts onto her back.    Lie down with me okay?    I lie down.    Our sides are touching, barely, but enough.    You can’t see many stars tonight, Anya says.    Too … Continue reading →

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First Steps

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

It is not about holding her perfect, just so, in a prescribed manner, but rather, can you slowpour your breath into one another’s hips and clefts, while swaying? It is the mutual pressing of scars together, a controlled friction that … Continue reading →

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Burn While Reading

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

Touch, how her body becomes a pulsing slate of Braille, your fingers, unfinished, running on

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Liason

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

Adore, the charmed offspring of Love’s prickly liason with Innocence before it ripens and falls. 

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Tilt

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

A mirror, tilted, starkly pooling lovers self-similar turns and views of each other: I am I, you are you, qualifiers blurred and dissolved in a furious crossing of ritual desires.

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Anya Rising

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

(Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn.)    I see her rising off the bathroom tiles, toes pointing downward.    I know this is a dream but I also know this actually happened, once, a long time ago.    Except then Anya … Continue reading →

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Trinity

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

Beware the airless room, without light, laughter and love, a Trinity beyond reckon, none of it is worth a good goddamn.    

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Sunder

Posted on February 20, 2018 by John Biscello

To leave sheer vowels and sudden clefts upon the warm, dream-wet infinity of skin, so wherever she goes, whenever, sundered verses will marvel as placeholders.

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