afternoon poem
II
The sharing of poetry is a most intimate act
lying close by on well-worn couches, feeding each other
with luscious, heady, sensual words, one at a time or all at once,
like newlyweds slyly offering delicate pieces of rich wedding cake
we gulp them down, licking each other's fingers clean
laughing, grapple and dive onto one another for the last precious morsels,
each one consumed wherever it falls and lies hidden,
we writhe in sacred play and pleasure
with the tempestuous passion of shared art --
each poem an all-consuming ecstasy,
each phrase a deepest secret whispered in the dark,
every word an ardent lover's kiss.
These poems,
we devour them together like starving gourmands, hungry to the bone,
balanced between craving and reverence, savoring every syllable, raw or cooked,
turning the metaphors over and over in our minds
twirling each one carefully on fork or spit,
acutely eager, considering still
each mouth-filling word with a moment of holy awe,
before consuming it whole,
all the exotic and earthy aromas filling our mouths
like wine of the gods, spilling down our chins and splattering across our cheeks and shoulders
licking the language clean from the hard white bones of grammar and form,
absorbing the heady flavors of place and pace
through our grateful eyes, ears and skin.
What a gift to find a compatible diner, who has
similar tastes and palate,
with whom to share a delicious meal.
The sharing of poetry is a most intimate act
lying close by on well-worn couches, feeding each other
with luscious, heady, sensual words, one at a time or all at once,
like newlyweds slyly offering delicate pieces of rich wedding cake
we gulp them down, licking each other's fingers clean
laughing, grapple and dive onto one another for the last precious morsels,
each one consumed wherever it falls and lies hidden,
we writhe in sacred play and pleasure
with the tempestuous passion of shared art --
each poem an all-consuming ecstasy,
each phrase a deepest secret whispered in the dark,
every word an ardent lover's kiss.
These poems,
we devour them together like starving gourmands, hungry to the bone,
balanced between craving and reverence, savoring every syllable, raw or cooked,
turning the metaphors over and over in our minds
twirling each one carefully on fork or spit,
acutely eager, considering still
each mouth-filling word with a moment of holy awe,
before consuming it whole,
all the exotic and earthy aromas filling our mouths
like wine of the gods, spilling down our chins and splattering across our cheeks and shoulders
licking the language clean from the hard white bones of grammar and form,
absorbing the heady flavors of place and pace
through our grateful eyes, ears and skin.
What a gift to find a compatible diner, who has
similar tastes and palate,
with whom to share a delicious meal.