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- Non-Erotic Poetry
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draped in a morning veil of ice,
dances on the liver spot galaxy
burned into his withered face.
His eyes fixed
on her granite biography
(the short version),
he recalls
the red hair spilling over
her pale back, now tufts
clinging hopelessly
to the whiteness of bone
against the blackness
of her cedar womb.
Fending off an army
of invertebrate embryos,
her polished metacarpals
reach out to him,
offering him
union.
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2 Comments
PandoraGlittersabout 12 years agoThis poem was
mentioned in New Poems Recommendations in the poetry forum.
