I am looking for someone to kiss,
longing for the intimacy
of tongue caressing tongue,
laying mine along the length of his
tasting first the sweetness
and then sour of his stippled tongue.
For the moment
I don't want to know his sex,
don't need to feel, taste
or see his manhood,
time the pulse of it
as it rises.
I long to converse
with that sacred spot
at the back of his throat
where speech lies,
where spirit sits
feeding words out,
turning speech into flesh-
into me, into us.
In the beginning
there was the WORD
and it was
Good and holy and sanctified.
Maybe the word was Love
or baby.
I am looking for his WORD.
Words that will make me smile
at his sound. This is so much deeper
than sex, and I am trying
to climb his family tree,
trying to
find a way into his ancestry,
read their stories embedded
on his tongue.
In my saliva
is held my genetic memory,
my genetic code for survival,
destruction, passion.
I want to kiss a man,
sharing this, want to
lick his stories out
then speak them back
to him
so he'll know
how he looks-
how he sounds to me.
I am looking for someone to kiss.
3 comments:
Beautifully worded desires.
Wow! You are an artist also. I love the poems and what a nice clean and fresh look your site has. Real nice dude I love it. I will send pictures of my art to you soon. I need to find the disc, OK?
Ed
No words from me can ever give your site any accreditation because your work speaks for themselves, and they stand ready to educate almost instantly.
Friend in INDY
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