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Pardonez-moi, darling

I want my lover to be the
way I eat his poetry,
like a delicacy, sweet to the bone
of his fingers,
salivating
and
taking me places
I've never been before
rendezvous-ing with untoward
lucid metaphor
naked in crisp white-ironed
summer-flowered sheets
of
possession and
unhinged imagination

him
unbuttoning my pedigree and
loosening my persuasion
until I scream
God, can you stop this mind-fuck
please
and let's go sailing the viridian
grid with mouthfuls of torrid sun

the villagers never liked you,
did they, their little black circle
of welts in the air.

Editing stage: 

Comments

I see some things never change...
this is très magnifique.
Kata

(((((((((((((((((Kata)))))))))))))))))))))) !!!!!

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