pearls around the neck 57
A poem
Author: Marisa Estelrich, USA, 2009
Illustration: Tim Gallo
He was lying asleep, naked
I contemplated his breathing, his involuntary jerks, his moans,
I wondered if he was dreaming,
was I part of it,
was he cold?
I was lying awake, naked
he did not notice me gliding
silently from behind
to steal the breathing solemnity
of this god of flesh
soul divine.
But my lips, oh they betrayed me
butterflying down his spine
my hands followed suit in anger
protesting he was not mine
and my hips shrieked in rage and hunger
he was theirs by design.
He seemed suddenly perturbed
by the battle being waged
relentlessly on his back
till he turned around and faced me
blinking at my butterflies
blew them softly
winged whisper
in the stillness of the night.
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