that which we mark
hands and feet in this silly gallery
humans and creatures of a mad design
are we alone in a pre-determined universe
that isn't ours can you see the hands and feet
darling the fingers and toes the knotted
limbs in sultry repose your kisses
gathered by someone's index
and transferred to stars in a galaxy's
extruscence, andromeda's arms
flung careless in love or open
in a carnal poem your hands
unclenched your feet pointed
to the corners of the bed
north, south, east, west
this universe in fluid motion
the magic song time
plucking the harp that is
this self your flesh in nova now
in flame in anticipation
humans and creatures of a mad design
are we alone in a pre-determined universe
that isn't ours can you see the hands and feet
darling the fingers and toes the knotted
limbs in sultry repose your kisses
gathered by someone's index
and transferred to stars in a galaxy's
extruscence, andromeda's arms
flung careless in love or open
in a carnal poem your hands
unclenched your feet pointed
to the corners of the bed
north, south, east, west
this universe in fluid motion
the magic song time
plucking the harp that is
this self your flesh in nova now
in flame in anticipation
Labels: Alison Gaughan, Andromeda
posted by As Bjorn at 8:40 PM
2 Comments:
wow. i don't mean to sound pedestrian, but this is a really sexy poem.
It's certainly about having sex with a beautiful woman I loved. The physical love was remarkable, sweet and savage. It was just the relationship that sucked.
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