Barry Charman
I had never kissed another man but I am not a man his kind had passed beyond names we were moon born, bound by nothing he dismissed day like it was an insult to his flesh I followed him off the known path to the deep woods he was a pale light that cut through a dim glade why would you be afraid of me? I am the son of the shadow the moon makes of the trees I watched his lips when he laughed he dove naked into a pool unashamed of being seen he lived in a hut faraway from the world unnatural was a concept he'd not been tainted with he made a fire for us both and we watched the flames lick each other his skin was pale and cool he held my hand like there was something about my heat he remembered he caught the way I studied him I am not a demon I am alone like a key, turning deep inside he was unlocking something and when I kissed him I tasted something true about myself in his mouth I found my emptiness in his arms I felt my purpose making his heart quicken I made him harden as I softened entering him was like entering the woods again and again as I released myself I gave him my heat wanting to leave nothing for myself the world went away softly, as it should not judging, barely watching receding with each sensation we wove with our flesh now we bathe by the pool blossom dances nearby swaying sweet while he talks of a world long passed we listen to the faraway sounds watch the strange objects that fly above and I remember the dream of another life
Barry Charman is a writer living in North London. He has been published in various magazines, including Ambit, Mothership Zeta, Vitality and Popshot. He has had poems published online and in print, most recently in Bewildering Stories and The Linnet’s Wings. He has a blog at http://barrycharman.blogspot.co.uk/