- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Heart-Shaped, Dripping with Honey
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Sometimes, I open that imaginary box,
the one that holds you inside,
reconciling the rise, the release and the fall,
I linger on words, remembering
their strings tied me to the passion,
often so tight I couldn't breathe.
I'd swoon, not from the lack of oxygen,
but from the honey.
Desire dark and rich,
sticking to everything I touched.
You spoon fed me and I ate every drop.
Warm and heady, I did lust you, goddamn,
you know I did then all the while in silence.
I know you suffered, but secrets like those
kept me yours, briefly as it were, I was.
Only then, I close the box again, instinctively,
licking my lips, tasting the sweetness clinging
and I cannot help but tremble for you.
- COMMENTS
Tzaraalmost 12 years agoThere is much I like about it--the imagery, the pacing--but it seems just a touch out of reach in terms of understanding fully what you're saying.
That's probably me. Perhaps I'm over-reading it. "You spoon fed me and I ate every drop" is a particularly good line.
tazz317almost 12 years agowho suffers the pangs of un-togetherness, TK U MLJ LV NV
