The bruises of the red-rose crushed underfoot
As it releases sweet agony and gratifies the senses
Expands as the foot pad leaves its mark and
Collapses once again blood pressed into your book

An ant from ground level up your jean leg
In the power of mid-day with the sun on your side
Only sweet shade and no harm done
Until the too-thick ankle I lather with kisses
Looks a little too much like

Things the World will never Know

Why the bullfrog blinks in the shade and
Sings its mournful song for the beauty it
Knows is staring at him from somewhere in the night
A scout for the next best thing observing from the crowd

A model gazing down her nose
Wondering what is it like to not have
Men's eyes track you around the room like wolves
Or drug tests or bloodhounds diving in for

Things the World Will never know

The crib perspective of just-born-yesterday
Why the child cries at a first-not-second chance
When there is still no need for sorry-that’s- not-what-I-meant
There is only today-and-not-tomorrow

Why the feline has nine lives instead of seven
And could there be yet another question to ask
When canines fall out on those long ways and dog days
Curiosity to date never killed a cat

Things the World will Never Know

Waking up in broad daylight on
Your broad chest with no shame to
Cover my body from the sun's revenge
And the burns you will soon fade away from
Every conscious thought that ever entered my mind

How to differentiate between the heat
Of laying next to your body in July
And the sweltering air in August and why
When your hands touch mine and your eyes gaze at me

I always tend to wonder about
Things the World will Never know.