Sinesthesia

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84 words
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My grateful nostrils widen to embrace
those waves of tempting resonance
those shining overtones of sweat that taste so right,
so close, so loud, that press relentlessly upon
my agile lips, a rolling, ringing tone
pulsing like a rich vermilion, like a
haunting howl, a sapid siren
whose downy stroke ignites
a tapestry of prickles, keen like fire,
of piquancies
a tangy touch
a silken timbre
incessant beat of roiling blood
and every ravening nerve demands
you whet my lush crescendo of desire

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5 Comments
jthserrajthserraover 7 years ago
poetry

nicely done

AMoveableBeastAMoveableBeastalmost 8 years ago

An assault on the senses, but never an affront. An orchestra of sensual imagery and some delightful language play.

AlwaysHungryAlwaysHungryalmost 8 years agoAuthor
@GM

Thanks -- the misspelling of Synesthesia was intentional.

legerdemerlegerdemeralmost 8 years ago
A sensual feast indeed

I love the poem overall, but it is also full of small gems within that make me smile, like the partial rhyme between siren and fire; the alliteration of 'haunting howl', 'rolling, ringing tones', and prickles and piquancies. I still quibble about the agile lips, but I would likely find at least one thing to quibble about.

greenmountaineergreenmountaineeralmost 8 years ago

I like this alot, AH. Its sibilance brings a sensual, musical quality to the poem.

I happen to think titles are important. I was unfamilar with the word. Once I looked it up, like good background music, it added to the poem.

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