i sit on the deck / 87 degrees melting / silk dress revealing chest / hair tied back low and lazy / last night the first fireflies arrived and you / tried to visit me / in your dreams / you went to florida instead / carried a heavy pack amidst palmetto trees / and long grass.
i sit on the deck / listen to a man describe / the slipperiness / of experience / i close my eyes / and you are here behind me / hand on shoulder / firm / decided / squeezing / your lips just below my ear / a trail of kisses into the / nape of my neck / and i am here / in the slippery.
a butterfly dances / on soft pink daisies / lips part / breath releases shoulders / cracks open back of heart / thick and dark and forgotten / a serpent awakens / she / uncoiling / summons guttural sounding / tongue travels strange trajectories.
without words / i am remembering / what love means.
what arises, arises.
when did i stop writing poetry?
the moment i needed something solid and
without a man had only my body,
unwanted for a moment, even by me.
my mirror vanished.
i remained
all nerve endings reaching
for illusions shattered
again and again.
here i am
wanting
slippery
uncoiling
here i am
love
loving
here i am.
thanks for reading, beautiful soul. if you enjoyed this, consider subscribing for more poetry, photography, and slow unravelings.
What an amazing poem, Faye! I am blown away by how genuinely erotic and insightful it is. I'm going to to restack it and I want to quote you, but I could honestly pick any part of it, yet I've chosen this for reasons known only to Erato and the Muses. Well done!
"a butterfly dances / on soft pink daisies / lips part / breath releases shoulders / cracks open back of heart / thick and dark and forgotten / a serpent awakens / she / uncoiling / summons guttural sounding / tongue travels strange trajectories.
without words / i am remembering / what love means."
This is really profound. I'm in the dark and slippery, too.