Home again....
The warm shadows
Soften your nakedness,
Undulating curves of sensuality,
Sculptured - a Rodin - for me.
I try and keep my breathing quiet
As I sit on the very edge of our bed,
Marvelling in your beauty - drinking
You in - I kiss the back of your calves;
“I love you”
I kiss you softly behind the knee;
“Oh I love you”
I softly glide my hand across the
Whiteness of your thigh
Across your sweet bottom.
You roll over – smiling
- Eyes still closed –
Your hair - all over.
I kiss your sex and you open up
Like poetry.
I mentally grin as I think of
‘Cummings’
“....Your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me...”
As I devour you...
“...or if you wish to close me, I and my life will shut.... ”
You hold my head like a baby
Caressing and guiding me...
“I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;
Only something in me understands the voice of your eyes
Is deeper then all roses...”
And I love the taste of you -
Autumn leafs...
“....Nobody, not even the rain, has such
small hands....”
It’s for you.
.X.
1 comment:
With each read this poem becomes more endearing, more touching. Your art choices are perfect and you've found somehow, somewhere, a picture of a 'perfect red rose.' I think of all your poems this will remain my favorite . Perhaps because of how you wove ee.cummings in there ever so perfectly. marci♥♥♥
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