Poetry Lover
by L.A.
Smith © 2000- 2001 
over the nipples you pulled
between your lips
this morning.
They ache still from the edges
of your teeth.
I tell a room full of strangers
how your beard bristles
on the slope of my thigh,
the torture of coiled silk
on the thousand-mile journey
from the back of my knee.
I tell them
how your thick fingers prod
my flesh to pleasure,
clay pressed and molded,
shaped and gratefully invaded
in the act of becoming.
I tell them
how your tongue paints
intricate still-lifes, rolling
landscapes, and portraits of the Presidents
on the miniature canvas I keep
between my legs.
They gasp and applaud.
You sit in the back,
your jacket in your lap,
watching my lips, glossed red,
hovering above the microphone.
You thumb the thick curve
of flesh along your left thigh
and remember my rehearsal:
each tender word and deliberate breath,
the way I made you spill
your love for poetry
into my waiting mouth.
© 2000-2001 by L.A. Smith. All rights reserved. Not to be used or reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.
Background
used is Tenderness
by Jaoni
Available for purchase at Art.com
Other
ENE Eromantica 2001 Submissions