by Edgar Bagayan
(01/07/09)
Her body I muse upon like it's art
I want you, tonight
without your clothes on.
No questions asked,
No obligations to dwell upon.
Take no offense,
this is just for one night.
That is not to say,
there is no more to you...
But I'm more concerned, tonight
with the passion I see in you:
In your radiant face,
In your fiery eyes.
I can just imagine
the blood rushing to your face,
your eyes rolling back into your head -
but I've only seen in pictures.
How come, so heavenly built?
Your body, tight
and legs, oh, so long...
It's like a work of art.
Intriguing,
I'm sure you are.
But tonight,
I want to feel
My fingers gliding down your thigh,
playing circles around your belly
then slowly...
slowly sliding down.
In the Ecstasy of Unfulfilled Yearning
We are animals.
We suck the blood
from our wounds,
clawing for more.
I don't love you.
I just want you.
In the basest corner,
salivating.
I want to see you
In the state you revert to...
you're not as classy as your dresses
not as sophisticated as your politics.
Raw, in your essence,
you have meat and you want it pounded!
screaming vulgarities
"..."
-and now you come to me.
If I don't dwell upon the abstractions,
I (guess) I can be with you...
I want to forever live
in the ecstasy
of unfulfilled yearning.
(I don't want to touch.)
In the basest corner,
salivating...
The Poet's Companion - by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux