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Click hereAll sorts of arms in tangles,
so much bare skin,
little split nail scratches,
the afterthought of eyes,
all this blue and green,
peeking from between
soft, sweet, hair
in golden brown, dark brunette,
and black mixed, at times
miss a beat now and then,
bring us all back into one Thing
when shoulders press,
legs in layers,
fingers reach for me,
for him and his shadow,
and who knows which is which, again.
Let all the lips
open and glisten,
and tongues carefully come together
mix up all the saliva
and streak across my back,
while one is back and one is forth,
rumbling softly, moaning quietly,
until a pitched scream
in unison leaves me complete
for just that small interval.
And later, eyes open,
dream again of the same
in the evening's rusty twilight,
begging for reality to replace
the sweating, needing release
that never comes.
An erotic poem without cliche, containing such originality and clarity of imagery, seriously, how could I pass that up? The key to this poem's intensity is attention to contextual detail. "little split nail scratches", "when shoulders press/legs in layers". There is some subtle use of alliteration and assonance, and one particular spot where it's all jumbled together but you still feel it "begging for reality to replace/the sweating, needing release". Only one phrase was a little cliche and so obvious in this poem and that was, shit, lemme find it... "moaning quietly". Cut that out, and I would have given it a five.
apt description, of how I feel about this:
the afterthought of eyes,
all this blue and green,
peeking from between
And later, eyes open,
dream again of the same
in the evening's rusty twilight, (this line could be better)
begging for reality to replace
the sweating, needing release
that never comes.
great lines here, I want more
I don't remember writing this, nor titling it like that. Weird...