by Amanda Ericson
(07/08/09)
Not That One
It's not the shy and contrived Did you come? orgasm
or even the naïve but truthful clitoris orgasm that thrills
for the sake of thrills, an appetizer served with cocktails
that prompts guests to say Well, yes, this certainly is pleasant.
It's not the one accompanied by soft kisses on earlobes,
not even the Let me take you out of my mouth
so I don't hurt you, but more like the Watch your flesh
because my mouth is barely mine now.
It's the fucked-raw, We've been at it for hours orgasm,
the You've both tamed and maddened me orgasm
that orders my inner flesh to suck you even deeper.
And afterward, when I can't stop squeezing you or shivering
or moaning or tonguing your wet, musk-flavored skin,
it's not because I'm being romantic; it's because I'm not able,
not fucking able, to release you.
Your Words
While reading your note,
I realize I've been licking the air,
lapping at your vowels
and absorbing the thrust
of your consonants
and I wonder,
if this isn't love,
what is?
The Poet's Companion - by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux