- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Childhood Sensuality
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Click hereRaspberry cordial,
Thick, honeyed syrup,
No water, coating my tongue
With its cloying seduction.
Glace cherries
Straight from the fridge,
Sticky on my fingers,
Eaten out of sight.
Dancing in nighttime rain,
Naked in the yard,
Cold pinpricks drilling
Through the layers of my skin.
Hidden in a closet,
Smelling violet perfume
Upon black velvet
That lies against my cheek.
Pricking fingertips so gently
With my mother's silver pins,
Running hands through needles
In her sewing drawer.
Smelling sap that's trickling
From the gum tree's bark,
Hugging close the roughness
Pressing hard beneath my hands.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozabout 17 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 35,000 poems.
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minsueover 19 years agoCold pinpricks drilling
Through the layers of my skin.
I remember that feeling well.
(thermometer left at default and does not reflect my vote)
Tathagataover 19 years agonice images here.
And something for each sense.
I'd love to see it expanded a litte...to draw a clearer picture.
Good work
