The Taste Is Bittersweet
I have been unfaithful,
under a curtain of night
even as you laid
a fingers breath from my hem,
he stole my affection
in sheared moments of Ecstasy
~~~
We came together
an eclectic mix,
liquid methane and fire,
once we had merged
our passion ignited
after the flames died down,
I took out a staff of creation
combining oceans of words
with waves baring
the muniments to love,
in a age of stars
nestled in black petals
and in the prayer rolls of galaxies,
my letters of adoration
shimmer
you can use a finger
and trace the path of my desires
through night
mouths of dark and light
kissed,
soft and gentle,
to a fevered fumbling
making poems slide out
between a tongue of your breath
and my lips,
I create my own beginnings,
until the end is whispers
I ask for no Taj Mahal
or crown of Sheba,
what use have I for a thousand ships
hulls busting agape with ardor,
I only yearn to taste the first syllable
that flows from the tip of your tongue
my lust twirls dream-catchers
and yet I crave the rush of methane,
my lust sparks to mark the darkness
with shooting streams of love
~~~
Neruda whispers to me of scents loosed
on the float of lemon flowers,
his rest begun
in a the soft valley
of my heart, and
he knew not how,
or when or from where
but from the other side
he found a way to my heart
timing the tide,
his words now rest under my tongue
and are savored with passion,
I am reduced, again and again
all this?
is only in my mind
Copyright © Jayne Eggins | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment