Thirst
In the erotic art of feudal Japan
the protagonists are never shown kissing.
Within the intimate billows and folds
of material and limbs the eyes are fixed
on the other’s, but the lips are not.
I hold on to this knowledge when you drink
from my water bottle, then having returned it
walk on. I hold the bottle with both hands
and drink deeply from what remains.
I like this a great deal. Welcome to the blog.
ReplyDeleteThank you Myron!
DeleteWhat a lovely poem. Great title. I really enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteSo erotic. Paced. So enjoyed. Welcome!
ReplyDeletenice one, Emma!
ReplyDeleteThank you Efi!
DeleteThank you Efi!
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