- Erotic Poetry
- The Sensuist: Scent
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The first scent memory,
elusive experience,
scrounging from each
of the sibling senses,
soliciting inferior images,
always metaphor...
I do know that
iris and timbre establish
fragrance appeal,
her beauty is her scent,
eyes inhaling her swirling warmth
spread like incense,
nostrils gathering silken pollen.
I shivered…
she felt my trembling, smiled
into my awe, her eyes
as spacious as mine,
her palms searching for an anchor,
she saw elation in my successful
submission.
I heard the taste of “I love you”,
adored her sounds and silences,
forever connected to smell,
filtered through long sighs...
I inhaled honey smoke
thick like cherry wood,
fire rich, texture of water
smooth as cream,
a freshly scythed pasture,
emerald life simmering
under a noon halo,
air redolent sweet,
indelible signature
moist on my lips...
I felt her pulse in my mouth
vibrating eternity,
something divine,
some act of creation,
some ancient force froze logic,
and like an animal
I would never know her again
with eyes and ears alone.
end/michael
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