Cary Briel

If I’ve said
a thousand times
you have
no cause for that

your worry
misplaced arguments
I’ve stowed
beneath my hat

I’d run a thousand
miles for you
I’d bring down
all the stars

I’d gather up
the fireflies
and store them
all in jars

If you’d like
to run with me
amidst
the grinning trees

the grass
the winds
would leap for joy
abandoning degrees

our garden’d
hedge itself right in
in such
a selfish ploy

and I’d recall
years ago
the love that
found this boy.

You know me
more than anyone.
I hope you’d say the same.
I have no
diary or scroll
that tells the day you came.
But my heart
has such a place,
it’s stored you quite away,
until such time
as someone finds
your name in its array.

The sky contrasts,
left and right–
Thick clouds, my left,
while I take flight.
I enter from
the northern lands.
I dive down deep
and cross your sands.
I cross the line
that I laid down,
before you donned
your wedding gown.

The Cross Dresser, chapters 1 & 2 posted.

Link:

http://thecrossdresserbook.com/the-book/

Excerpt:

The ceiling on the opposite side of the room angled down sharply, making it impossible to stand, so this is where the beds were slid, their headboards toward the wall. Shortly after they’d moved in, it was decided that Shelly would take on the task of decorating. Kate was good with her hands, but only in a ‘fix a faucet’ or ‘plaster a hole’ kind of way. In a rush of inspiration, and, perhaps more noteworthy, a realization of stark poverty, Shelly wallpapered behind the beds, up to and including the angled ceiling, using Cosmo mag centerfolds. She had torn them from a collection she’d found in boxes left in basement storage by a former tenant. As a joke, which ended up being taken quite favorably, she pasted a famous Burt Reynolds spread from 1972 directly above Kate’s pillow, central enough so Kate had to try to not look at it.

Kate would often lay at night, awake, wondering which creature in the photo had the more primitive intent toward her thin body as it lay helpless beneath the sheets in its nightdress, Burt or the sacrificial bear beneath him.

Bound with ropes, I find,
between its curly braces,
its looping for’s and while’s–
I long for watery rest.
What is this dream I’ve made,
this horrid separation?
Mom and Dad above
sit beside my couch–
This projection of my mind,
repeating in its walls–
How many human eyes
must I wear before I wake?

If I told you my real name,
it’d all make quite more sense,
how I’ve grown love your feet
and the love they represent.
You see, I come from northern lands,
where feet do not exist,
nor are there arms or hands,
but lots of eyes and lips.
And, I’d also like to say,
I had never seen a toe,
not before today,
when I came to live below.

My ear, it overheard,
at the blazing speed of sound,
a detrimental word,
and its meaning came unbound.
It fed directly to my brain,
bringing with it hurt and fear,
so I stepped out of its way,
and it went out the other ear.

Zeus of realms, fiery,
crouched and hid behind,
blackened, stormy clouds
he spun within his mind.
Tilting timeworn levers,
pulling ropes, tight-bound–
Reeling out from darkness
a rolling thunder sound.
Flashing out his lightning,
East to West it goes–
The airy kingdom’s reared
up from burning toes.

Dearest girl,
sweet Jane, it seems
your manuscript,
in boxed up reams,
from your closet shelf
is calling you.
It needs you now
as you need it,
once filed away in
youthful fit,
dreams once known
but, since, away they flew.

Bells can be heard
amidst her branches,
jingling out
sweet melodies,
carried on the winds.
Climbing her limbs
to the stars, we whisper
in still nights.
Her fruit explodes
against my tongue.
I’ll never taste another.