If I hadn't cut my hair

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
slipping into your taste like a warm winter bed
your sighs grow
into panting

Submitted: March 11, 2009

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Submitted: March 11, 2009

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If I hadn’t cut my hair…
 
If I hadn’t cut my hair
I would bow my head
and make a hidden cave
of my face
 
My eyes would have the
intensity of a feverish man
And I would gaze
fixedly
in concentration
at my clasping unclasping clasping
hands
 
In this state
I can reveal my soul
a wounded bird
a smouldering tree
and you can have the rare
privilege
of seeing my total vulnerability
 
I’ll sing you my songs
head bowed…
Songs of the heart –
of desire, of glory
of intense momentary union
 
Songs of absolute joy.
Songs of how I discovered
my own ecstasy
deep in you –
 
parting your thighs with my
tongue,
smoothing sliding across the valleys and mounds of your body
slipping into your taste like a warm winter bed
your sighs grow
into panting
into moans
fragmentary cries of delight and
wonder
 
I’d bow my head
and show you my neck
(the most exposed part)
 
- If I hadn’t cut my hair


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