Intimacy!
Such an impropriety!
Such a rude
incursion of the yearning
for satiety in
body and in soul.
Sometimes
kissing is the goal --
hovering
above like Death’s sweet dove,
ready to
bestow a final blessing.
Sometimes when
you’re dressing
ineluctably
in front of me I can’t
not reach out
to restrain your hand.
Intimacy! Illicitly
imported and exported
in the heart.
Dangerously
contraband. Inevitably art.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment