Do not write love poems near the sea
She will hear in the scratch of pens on paper
The rhythms of rocking bodies
The sound of blood rushing to lips
The quick breathy hiss as pupils dilate
And, especially,
Do not write love poems in the sand by the sea
Neither with salt-whitened twigs or backs
But with knees sincere in composition
And eyes cast down
To see the grains of sand spread their filaments of need,
For, I tell you,
On the night of the new moon,
She is an ocean of desire
Her kiss deeper than the sky.
She will hear in the scratch of pens on paper
The rhythms of rocking bodies
The sound of blood rushing to lips
The quick breathy hiss as pupils dilate
And, especially,
Do not write love poems in the sand by the sea
Neither with salt-whitened twigs or backs
But with knees sincere in composition
And eyes cast down
To see the grains of sand spread their filaments of need,
For, I tell you,
On the night of the new moon,
She is an ocean of desire
Her kiss deeper than the sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment