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Thursday, June 3, 2010

Neck

Visions of the fine, fair, velvet hairs covering
the collar bone, the smooth blue roadmap inside
warm valleys, rolling into the concave road of flesh.

Intimate fresh scents of gardenia and sandalwood soap
saturate my soul, eyes roll and fall inside wet magnolias.
Content fission of hope, one breath I am unearthed.

Bordeaux lips of butter brush the curves between
the neck and the shoulder. Memories cream into the
the inward softness of hot cashmere, pink petaled rose.

Cheek pressed into the sunset of skin, soft hair,
curved smooth heat encapsulated inside river rock,
water flows, ritual wrapping of arms, faith grows.

One hand of fingers flow around the flesh
of another’s soul, skin gently placed, a perfect mold;
pulse quietly beats, violin chin, she blankets her sins.


Her hair meshed on my face,
a questionable twists of trust.

Salt

Pushing through the crease of her arm,
you erupt,
unexpected and enticing.
Her skin is your path as
gravity guides you
down tiny hairs.
Salty, clean
and perfumed.

I watch you drip
down her soft
inner coves.
Delirious skin,
delicious
wet taste in my mouth.
The sight of you is
iridescent.

Your liquid body is drawling,
talking,
staring.
You slide
from the nape of her neck,
curling,
to the dimple
of her back.

Beads emerge again.
I watch you roll down
glistening flesh
to the lulling
of her breast.
I hold not to lunge,
as you mock, taunt
and own.