Others find pleasure
in success, words, deeds
and I should
I really should
try to sit at my desk and feel
glee.
Instead
when night falls
slow like slipping lingerie
I think of you
how your neck smells
the color of your cheeks when you feel
me inside you.
This, us, has always been
the lamp that burned
long into slinking dark
shooing away ghosts
or fears of meaninglessness
that hang incessant on soft periphery .
You, who are my alter
the perfume of church incense infused in your skin
you, who rub the lamp and beckon the genie.
Without you
I should slip into that hot bath, with that tall drink
a side-car to oblivion
and take the closing sharp against my wrists
for all the damnation we wrought
in our determining and losing and clambering
through nets of life, hardly worth the wade
were it not for you, and the bright ache of your smile.
There has only been one thing, that has made me feel pleasure
the feel of you beneath me
the awakening of shared breath
as we live, but only as one
only ever as one, or
vanquished, please, with
the coming of
dawn.
To be thought of, felt of, loved, desired so, and to be in simply being such source of joy and solace, must be to have lived well.
This is such a beautifully descriptive poem from start to finish. It makes me miss being in love.
“when night falls
slow like slipping lingerie” is a great image
Thank you so much dearest D for reading this and for always caring about what I write, which given your capacity for caring, fills me with hope
Ah. I love that it does that but I wish love for you also.
One day, perhaps. One day.
Lovely. Your hill that was died upon.
Thank you dear Kevin
Your tender words. Like a lover’s whisper. Thank you dear poet for sharing your amazing words and thoughts.
Dear John, you are one of the shining lights of the WP world I hope you know that and how much we all cherish you
You are very kind my dear friend. Hello from Michigan.