…when touch seems casual and only discourse intimate…
- John Hollander
you want me to write about our love
talk on the structure of touches
how they release uncontrolled emotion
that conquers the precision of our limbs
you wish I’d account for some details
the oceanic movement of our bodies
how our legs and arms wrestle for a grip
when we finally make time but
I hope you don't write about our sex life
when the whorls on your fingertips find the
arches leading to dark spots on my body
your kiss sits like salsa on my parted lips
I travel like the viscous droplets
that form and ease right down your spine
pausing like the weight of wine
a full-bodied finish in your mouth
but this isn’t the height of our intimacy
we are the odor of flint striking steel
destructive alone as fire and fire
embers burning into the morning
I ask if we can agree on anything
though I’m not sure I’d have it differently
By: Chelsia A. Rice
The Broken Word Volume Two
Church of Poetry 2007
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