Skin

Posted: December 5, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

nude
mustard miasma on tortured toast
dead-letter diagrams of esoteric schemes
over-turn the apple-cart all over Applecross

cocktail linen on the dining-room table
a door shuts out nothing
I like every female skin well

I dream of tickling their bones and sweetening their snatches
My guilt-stricken hand reaches out and strokes their nipples
With peanut-crunching glee

Annihilate every rational thought not focussed on sensual optimism
Exterminate hectic lonely nights of self-love and weeping
To be loved is a precious and erratic blessing
Hold on to it
Breathe in
Then let it go
Breathe out

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s