Your palm
gliding, hovering
at half hair height along the hairy patches of my body
...how does it maintain this alternating altitude?...
never once touching my skin
its sole messengers the hair roots
sending intoxicating messages to a brain
inundated by a desire to roar
and finding itself inexplicably...
can a male human purr?
Close your eyes tight.
Wear your lead eyeglasses
before your thumbs force my eyelids open
lest the swarming stars roaming the hollows of my body
will burn your retinae
blinding you, blinding your breath,
blinding the skin of your palm
and burning the hungering roots to my hair.
Night. Naked.
Your head on my chest,
your breath irregular
dreaming of knights out of their steel armor
maybe even of me out of my considerably less impressive
cotton underwear.
I remove my lead eyeglasses
and slowly force your eyelids open.
The swarm invades me
burning my retinae
blinding me, blinding my breath,
blinding the skin of my palm,
blinding the roots to my hair
as a bluish glow takes over from the overbearing blackness of walls
and I burn.
A contest entry
- Will you pick flowers or points? Maybe both? by Sonja.
435 points, ended July 19, 2007, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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One of those poems what are taking my breath away. Feelings are great includes as well as following vivid descriptions:
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Night. Naked.
Your head on my chest,
your breath irregular
dreaming of knights out of their steel armor
maybe even of me out of my considerably less impressive
cotton underwear.
~
When two are in love, knights can go to their stories. and what could be more impressive than cotton underwear if...
~
a bluish glow takes over from the overbearing blackness of walls and you burn.
~Sonja~
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Ah to burn from the inner peace and desire, the inner fires of your lovers touch. How well I remember such flames. How well I know the need to burn there with them. You paint the agony of love in so many wonderful shades. But always the ones that tickle the soul. Such is the soul of a poet, such is the soul of a lover. Bravo on such a tender, yet burning write.
Blessings be,
Billie Jean
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you see it so well, so very well
thank you for the accuracy of interpretation, billie 
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