the incense buddha

Adrianna de la Rosa
(02/26/03)

something about the scent of skin
lingering
rough press of entrance
sometimes
just the glide & sweep

the incense buddha
rubs up against something inside of me
this incense buddha
someplace I found him
lost

but both of us

might have been lost
and then there was the scent of that skin
alive and my hands took it in like air
and it went all soft against me, curling
rolling my fingers around that
roundness
up against that neck inhaling
something coming in slow frequency

the incense buddha
dips in and out, swings
in and out, rolls side to side
dancing all the time
rolling those hips around me
rolling those
hips, my eyes in disbelief
of something

makes you want to start out once upon a time
in the back seat of a car with a boy
& something got triggered
& then there was a flow you couldn't stop
and his hands were that insistent
and all the time he smelled just like that incense

incense buddha
like something crouching low across a desert burning all/boy
fragrance of pinon under stars or cedar
smoked woods & something
sugarsweet underneath it all/male

and you might have called that incense
honeyfingers
strumming around something central
not sure if it was my heart

©2002 by Adrianna de la Rosa

                                                                                                                                                                                               

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Adrianna de la Rosa is indebted to Clean Sheets for publishing her for the first time since she wrote poems for the Star-Spangled Underground Revolutionary Free Press in high school. She is the author of Man in the Moon and writes, as her friend Valdez was known to say, "when the fire and ice hits."