- Non-Erotic Poetry
- grains in basket
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you loved a poet once
your tongue is muscle
you tell me these things
as we move without worry
of oil based paints
and products
washing clean under water
selecting fabric and color
like breakfast at a diner
syrup sticky menu
finger touches choice
forest green, animal prints,
blue ink, tiny stitching
I follow close behind
like Ruth
or Naomi?
picking up your scattered grains
hungry for the spill
knowing now I did not marry the wrong man
if I'd have married the right one
I would never have met you
is there anything else to say?
- COMMENTS
LeBrozalmost 16 years agoThis poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 40,000 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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Anonymousabout 20 years agon o no
we are turtles
the famous turtles that the whole of universe and todays pancakes rest on and slide off of, syrup and all.
next to and slightly above are other peoples plates.
silver knives forks spoons Fords Chevys napkins
and the rest
