Kiss Me
By mead815
- 320 reads
Kiss Me
It might be sordid, the bed spins and fingers
of possibly gentle depravity. You know
that of course, my prose-puckered lips
presently languishing silence except
for these brief exclamations,
these emissions of air.
How strange really
the way faces fit together,
a Jigsaw of angles scarcely aware
of the hazards of noses poking out
eyes. One must be anthropological,
objective, when studying the erogenous.
either that or Groucho Marx in order
to keep perspective from flowing off
lost in a fluid of feeling which pays
therapist's phone bills and lets
ghosts leak from mirrors.
Who are you? What a question
and what wants stampede to tear
asunder or reaffirm! Tongues of lust,
tender angel fire, the carnal mind
and loins of cannibals rationalizing
survival's need with a virgin's
merciful sensitivity spreading
fear, sacred tenderness, pure
as complications on this altar.
No. No. It's quite simple.
I know how and the reasons why
cats purr. Their wisdom ripens,
mistletoe-right. It's above us. close
as smoke. Am I looking too deeply?
Wait a minute. Don t. Ok.
Come here.
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