And After ...by Suzan Abrams
The hours flow silently like running water into my enticing night. I lie embedded hard and fast like fastened cuffs. Your fingers are so strong, they have twisted my shoulder blades into a demented perfection.
To keep me quiet, you cover my mouth with your hand and stare closely down into my eyes. Your hand feels like iron and your stare resembles a bullet-filled gun. I worry that you may smash my teardops though perhaps, you are too kind for that. I take no risk. I sigh and stop struggling. I am a newborn and still blindfolded in its cot. I am a cub looking for cover.
All the time, my eyes move along with yours, never once leaving your face. We see what we see. We touch what we can. I stare with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. I try to smile a little nervously, then give up. You don't seem to mind. For survival, I struggle in an ocean from where I have coloured its seabed with lipsticks for corals and my shame for seaweed.
Your ring to me is the treasure chest from where past shipwrecks have toppled into the wells of my heart. Now, I swim inside of myself; straight up and down and roundabout. I thrust my tail and fan the possibilities like a goldfish looking anxiously for a new love.
I taste the texture of your skin with melody from my lips. Your kisses make an orchestra. I look for new continents as I float about on your body, dressed in nothing but a skimpy raft. I pray for no siren and wave no flag. If I could light a match, it would be for a mountain of desire to engulf me in its rescue and nothing more. Passion alight!
For a moment, I close my eyes to the heat and the damp. I am basked in sweat. Flesh buried in flesh. Fold encircling fold. I remember the eternal smell of your quick heavy breaths, the slow warm unfolding of your unexpected smile. I want to keep soaking myself in this strange new aura of bliss. Beddy-byes and all that and a sweet goodnight!
I am once more a girl as virginal as an imp. I am the mindless urchin...naked, hungry for more and feeling suddenly cold. I am a plank of wood, colourless and straight on my bent back. Will you let me go?
This morning, on a crowded pavement, I have to close my eyes and pretend. I am the wilted flower from yesterday with petals not yet dead and begging for more. I am so drunk with love, I cannot walk in a straight line.
To keep me quiet, you cover my mouth with your hand and stare closely down into my eyes. Your hand feels like iron and your stare resembles a bullet-filled gun. I worry that you may smash my teardops though perhaps, you are too kind for that. I take no risk. I sigh and stop struggling. I am a newborn and still blindfolded in its cot. I am a cub looking for cover.
All the time, my eyes move along with yours, never once leaving your face. We see what we see. We touch what we can. I stare with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. I try to smile a little nervously, then give up. You don't seem to mind. For survival, I struggle in an ocean from where I have coloured its seabed with lipsticks for corals and my shame for seaweed.
Your ring to me is the treasure chest from where past shipwrecks have toppled into the wells of my heart. Now, I swim inside of myself; straight up and down and roundabout. I thrust my tail and fan the possibilities like a goldfish looking anxiously for a new love.
I taste the texture of your skin with melody from my lips. Your kisses make an orchestra. I look for new continents as I float about on your body, dressed in nothing but a skimpy raft. I pray for no siren and wave no flag. If I could light a match, it would be for a mountain of desire to engulf me in its rescue and nothing more. Passion alight!
For a moment, I close my eyes to the heat and the damp. I am basked in sweat. Flesh buried in flesh. Fold encircling fold. I remember the eternal smell of your quick heavy breaths, the slow warm unfolding of your unexpected smile. I want to keep soaking myself in this strange new aura of bliss. Beddy-byes and all that and a sweet goodnight!
I am once more a girl as virginal as an imp. I am the mindless urchin...naked, hungry for more and feeling suddenly cold. I am a plank of wood, colourless and straight on my bent back. Will you let me go?
This morning, on a crowded pavement, I have to close my eyes and pretend. I am the wilted flower from yesterday with petals not yet dead and begging for more. I am so drunk with love, I cannot walk in a straight line.
posted by Suzan Abrams, email: suzanabrams@live.co.uk | 22:59
<< Home