lust

A Poem On How Passion Conquers The Fear Of Loving Again

Photo by  
Janine Mizéra

Photo by Janine Mizéra

I can’t let myself fall in love
again.
Not not-at-all,
just not all
the way I did before.
If I could I would
or would I… I don’t know.
Until our eyes meet like swords in the distance between us.
You might ask Care to dance?
But probably not because
I could cut your heart from the outside
almost.
As you’ve already cut mine.
Then later
we tango towards the boudoir
bodies embracing the animal waltz
sung by the animals within us.
Then at some point it happens.
We fall and
Crash
into newly-cratered earth
where we’ll build the Aftermath
of our Everafter.
A new world reborn, for now.
A little world that appears within this world
and that world, yes, that world
is you.
Somewhere between your margarine thighs and the split fruit skin
along the curved rim
of your hind.
Your highness
You head
and mouth, the lips from which
the midnight dew of your secrets
rises to kiss the risen sun
while your ears I fill
spilling and spelling
lilac wine
like the ripoff I am.
Our tongues embrace in a dark place
licking as they learn to dance
together
textures slick and soft and prickly
like overripe strawberry
your saliva like champagne
your cooch like caviar.
Don’t, you whisper, please
Don’t
Stop.
Let’s melt together
on this night for all nights
because I know the best having seen the rest
and I see you, Woman,
all day long
in my dreams and on the streets
I drink you in
to stretch and mould, squeeze and hold
like something tender and unbreakable.
I drink in your sound through my mouth
suck up your words through nostrils
savour your moans
clasp your little finger in my own
hand
whispering
it’s now or never
for us
in this fleeting version of forever.
Submitted to ArtParasites by Stephen Fox