Our first kiss:
my lips wrapped in tinfoil

paper ticker-tape candy fortune
trailing out in small blue lettering
foretelling the things I want to do to you;
the way I want your heat
to meet
my chocolate interior and melt through
until the sweetness is thick over your tongue
spazzing uvula can’t stay where it’s hung
if the warm rush comes
and you swallow the flood
of my tinseled gift confection;
in your palm,
I am ready to be unwrapped

Published in: on January 24, 2019 at 7:53 pm  Comments (1)  
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Native tongue

This is not your native tongue
It is magic spells in tonal fountains
Spraying foreign sonnets at tender women
Every huff and breath,
The rounding of your lips
Giving way to bliss incarnate,
Sounds so intent and near
To moisten the ear!
And you speak it so well
I would never know
It did not come from mother’s kisses.
Yet in a tryst such as this
It is clear your fluency
Agrees with me
Each parted lip limbered linguistically
I can translate the vibrations in your throat
And decipher the murmur in your moan
The accent crescendos roll from your tongue
Open wide palate, right off it comes,
Diaphragm heaving tones
Making a language so unknown, but understood.
And here I marvel while you remark
In bothered babble and twisted tongue
Coming together
and coming undone
Conjugating wild verbs, we greet each one
Following syllables like metronomes
Vocal rhythms,
pulsing bones
I know your mouth is a long way from home
But that ease when you breathe and squeeze
The familiar hum from your lungs,
Is something I want
wrapped around my native tongue.

Published in: on August 6, 2013 at 10:53 pm  Leave a Comment  
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