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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4048 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Song of Travels Lauriette (Laurie Byro) Your love is more delightful than the maps we have explored with our bodies Midsummer, unable to last, we choose a bed of day lilies, find ourselves in India, Bengal tigers nip at our skin. A pistil with its black soot is my bindi, I need no other adornment. My lover, a cluster of tigers, you writhe through my legs with your lush tail. We drink the strongest teas of Darjeeling, and I taste the cinnamon on your lips. An island of spice, how buoyant your body as we roll and pitch. You have unbraided my hair over you, the color of a mermaid. Oh the pleasure we find in the kingdoms of oceans. Lover, my breasts are pale beneath the heat of the sun. They release into your hands like terns by the shores of our retreat. Shimmering one, I shall name you after an island named for a Saint. Will we forage like deer upon the woodlands of our bodies? Shall we rename our bounty, after the trees of the earth. ShalI I compare you to a cypress, a fig, an exotic teak? Awake, and bring me to all new places, promised by your compass. I am certain there are still those, never explored by man. My fingers drip with the flow of jasmine petals. When you meet me here, my love, we shall not be greedy. We shall not mourn unbidden places, nor feasts we’ve turned away. |
