what i remembered

thinking about an encounter some time ago. what is the moment, i asked, that is the essence of the thing? how to put into the perfect words the joy and warmth, the fleeting glimpse inside something, and the invisible deadline at which point it would end with naught but a whisper. i haven't got that, but

afternoon already the slatted windowshades
us, your length along me a feather's touch
in the knotted hot bedsheets i remember
eyes open, closed, latte skin
feel in my mouth--yours after a while
i lay my head on your dozing chest


Blogger Benobo Baboon said...

thought you were gonna use "oolong cream" instead of "latte"?

15/3/06 13:14  

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