Splice

As we talked last night
The windows flew open and
The doors became unhinged and yet
You did not slam me shut.
"I am this" you said in your
Quiet revelations as the breezes
Eased the tensions senseless and shrugged.

When next we meet I plan to
Dangle my feet on your hip bones
As you xylophone my spine with those
Hands that heat my ardour
To hot ice.

You deserve my splice.
I have this need for the spiciness
That you offer in a trice
Wafting through my life
Like an open doorway leading
To a harbour.





Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 514 times
Written on 2009-04-04 at 22:38

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Eli The PoetBay support member heart!
Hmmm... you do have a way...
2009-04-05


melanie sue
well! do i like the way you describe these delicious morsels? you bet! i definately would like my back played like a xylophone! that always brings out the ardour in me. :)
2009-04-05