Poems

Fig

I lift it,
right before
your eyes,
from a bowl
of cool water.

Dripping wet,
so ripe
its bluish
purple skin's
begun to split,

its pink flesh
soft against
my thumbs
as your breast,
it fumes

its heavy
sweetness.
I tear it
apart, gaze,
and eat.

Never even
blinking,
you lick
its sticky juice
from my fingers.

                

Oyster

It lies on its shell, raw,
wet, and shiny. With a hint
of violence, I stab it

with a three-pronged fork,
slather it with cocktail sauce,
and lay it on a cracker.

As I ease it jiggling
to my tongue, it flares
my nostrils with the scent

of the sea. When I close
my eyes and bite, is it
the oyster I eat? Or you?

                

Tongues

Today, while we're
apart, we won't
even notice them,
these autonomic,

vascular organs
enabling us
to taste, chew,
and speak.

Tonight,
warm with blood
and pulsing,
they will sneak

from their castles
of teeth,
caress
every atom

of our flushed,
forbidden flesh,
and swirl,
mellifluously

fluent
in the dark,
carnal language
of desire.

©2006 by Larry D Thomas

                                                                                                                                                                                               

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Larry D. Thomas is an award-winning poet who has published five collections of poetry. His featured poems were selected from his chapbook manuscript, Eros, for which he is currently seeking a publisher. Mr. Thomas’ poetry has twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.