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Thursday, September 4, 2008

Your Sensuality




The size and

Degree of your

Sensuality

It sometimes almost

Frightens me. I feel



Unworthy

Unqualified

Unequipped

To know

This wealth

To receive

This gift

This prick of





Your nipples...


Like two pin-lights

Inside a cosmos

Of skin

As taut, tender, and

Tight as stars.



My God!



Your sensuality

Can almost

Frighten me.

Make me feel

Hard as Diamond

And Yet,

Minute

In The Universe

Of its Largeness…



It’s as if

Your legs

Would stretch

Into a chasm

Deep and Wide

And swallow

My secrets and

Swallow my

Pride...

And gorge my

Insecurities

Whole.



And I

Believe

That sex with

The Soul

Manifests and

Flows into

A slow and

Enduring song.



I believe

Sex

With the skin

Is a physical act

But sex within

The intimacy

Of the soul, unfolds

And floats upon

Erotic sheets of

Poetry… It’s all

Nin & Whitman

Maya & Kerouac and

Zane, Barrett-Browning

Shakespeare and shit!



But I am finally

Ready

To dip

My pen inside

Your whipping

Erotic tide.



But will I

Only drown

When I’m supposed to

Flow?



I never learned

To perfect

That arc

In my dive. Never learned

To swim freely

Against

A rushing tide.

Never learned the righteous

Way to go

Insane, and lose

My mind

Inside of you…



But I am

Ready

To embrace

This newfound

Lunacy...

To close my eyes

And ride

Your wave

To wherever place

It leads…



And so

I go down

With grace

And I go down

Willingly...

Even though

The size and degree

Of your sensuality…

It sometimes

Almost…



Frightens me.







One.



By L.M. Ross