My Word In You Is My Poem.

[Guest guest]

The dreaming heart has been laid between the stars of

night, like a string of seminal pearls deep in the womb of

love. The sloe perfumed embracing, the slow gliding of

thoughts, enclosed in a warm wealth of wonder. A dew

moist suckle of the pink sea anemone of loves vaginal

opening, has painted this tongue with honey, poured from

the sweethearts of a million lovers. This heart has become a

silver spoon that lays deep in the butter of our nurturing.

 

The pulse flash and flutter of my spoken soul, is rated

brightly, in the vibration of Gods saying. This our soft and

clear sweet nothings and love playing. I have been bathed

in the word again, and emerge as naked as light in the sound

of a lovers quick breathing. Until both the uttering and the

gasp of this cleaving, speaks a shatter of silence from the

still well and dark throb of this full coming, full creaming of

the word in all.

 

Language slips from my open pore by the bolt bare beauty

of this bright lightening. I am the word becoming, and the

ear of my opening. I can speak on the tongues of maidens

and boys. Slick and slipping between the mouths of both

women and men and melt into their mouth watering as the

moon in the heart of loves bathing. The vestal purity of this

harmony, scandalously wanton and laid down in the light,

and desiring nothing else but to speak a resonation in the

throat of joy.

 

And thus I am my poem, and speak of you, my poetry, this

day, and lay languid within your belly and play the tune of

you with a hand drenched in your sweetness. I am your

breath this day and the gulp of delight that catches you

unaware, and hugs you there, where you inhabit this our

secret. I ease my way through the heart of you, with

wordplay and vibration. To stroke the chord of you, and

pluck you naked from that housecoat you shroud your

loneliness within. Each word spoken, a nipple of longing,

that quickens for the lap of milk, and returns as a river of

fire to modulate your rhythm and rhyming in Loves

unwinding undoing.

 

You are the art I speak. Your poetry, my poem expressing

you like sugar from the cane of a lithesome probe and delving in.

To be spoken of like this, where I enter you, and you begin.

Worded in each other thus, and said most intimately as us again.

 

 

love

 

eric

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2002. Eric Ashford.