Since You Ask

by Lorri Lambert-Smith
(12/19/01)

Any vein that starts at the base
of my throat will lead you there.
Trace one with your finger

down to where the skin grows pale
and full. Behind the ivory
ribbon rose, my pulse point

emanates the scent
of sandalwood or musk. Tell me
which essence you wish

to breathe; I'll make it come true.
My nipples are neither brown
nor pink but a watercolor

blend of both and so soft
when your fingers
pass over them, it will be

as if through warm air.
You wonder about the weight
of my breasts. Imagine

a pair of thrushes,
their light, wild bodies
coming to rest in your hands.

---

dark


my tea
before I lighten it
with ice

a black cherry
I take from the stem
with my tongue

the river
where the shallows
drop off

the passing shadow
of a gull

shade
that moves up my legs
as I lie in late sun

my own
darkening skin

lover,
I've always known
you'd come

a warm night
falling

©2001 by Lorri Lambert-Smith

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