- Erotic Poetry
- If She is a River
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
If she is a river, then I am an island
Centre-stream, washed around, surrounded.
She takes away a small spit of land,
And leaves it in another place. Grounded
As I am in her bed, I am a part of her,
Yet outside, never fully knowing her.
If I am a river, then she is my rivage,
And I am fickle, changing with upstream rains.
She bounds me where I would be savage,
And levees me from wasting in the plains;
I take my course, my whole form from her,
Only in extremes of love overflowing her.
If she is a river, then I am a rock in her narrows,
Water-smoothed, deafened by her presence,
Tongued by her fierce rivulets into furrows.
I hold, and hold, and hold in her essence,
Until at last my foundation’s overcome by her.
I tumble, tumble down, finding a new lie in her.
If I am a river, then she is my whole winding,
Making me leap through gorges, and meander,
Leaving ox-bows of memory, and finding
New bye-ways, still backwaters where I wander,
Always content to be defined by her
Broad arms, at salt water’s finally meeting her.
- COMMENTS
