by Magi Schwartz
(08/15/07)
The smooth line between hip and thigh,
slackens and softens, but it still arcs
to the full-moon curve of a woman's ass.
Breasts that once studied the stars, jiggle and slope.
The waist has spread beyond Scarlett's hand-span;
now it bulges comfort and hugs, thickened
with love to a yeasty, doughy sexiness.
The satin gown still sighs against skin.
The vine of the throat is still lush, sweet fruit.
Nipples bloom in the wet of a lover's kiss.
Lips offer sips of liquor, half silk, half fire.
Sexual desire is always there, drowsing
in the dark bed of the rose cave,
a moon pearl seeded in an oyster.
Breathing, moist and deep,
lust sleeps, an enchanted princess waiting
for a silvered-hair, slow-tongued prince
to lift the sheets, open the flesh gates,
enter the cave and claim the pearl.
The Poet's Companion - by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux