Jan 302015
One mated and angelic eve
With the book flared across your knees,
Eyes guided eyes and, nose to nose,
Ambushed lips began to brush and be.

Stiff ministers of a cultish creed
We repeated the stolen words,
Puked up tongue and black and naked need
Until our needing heard.

I knew any bell's praise from your lifted lips
Would sound my soul awake;
I knew each bit of bitch, like a searing nail,
Would seal my damaged fate.

Together with stars and eyes and book half-open,
We paid with pain for what we left unspoken--
We traded hands and nimbly led
Each other back to bed.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.