I want the weight of you,
not just your hand like a
delicate shadow
on my belly;
Not just your open mouth on
mine,
your scruff on my neck, no
this won’t do.
I don’t want pieces of you.
I want the cool finger of
vision,
your hands down my spine.
Our bodies wading shallow,
naked in a reflective pool. Two
puddles coming together,
the meniscus of our crescent
figures like droplets
returning from the waterfall.
On your lips I tell you this,
taste our stolen kiss.
You don’t hear me
through the rush.
© 2013 Samantha Kolber
1 comment:
It's a very sexy sensual poem. I love it until "meniscus of our crescent", my mind falls off there and the end seems scrambled. It doesn't fit in with the first part. I don't know. That's just how it feels to me. It's a good poem that could be stronger with just that sumthin. Please delete this comment. Write more.
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