Uhhhmmmm. Backlogged on replies, comments, and commenting. Sorry, hopefully Sunday is my day.


Eye of the Beholder


Eccentric kisses, placed randomly between
yin and yang. Touch me there now,
excoriate the plateau beneath my breasts.

Often, when the tendrils shoot into the ground,
fluttering baby leaves remind me of your caress.

They try to cure me, my fantasies, they think I'm
hurting. How I wish they could see through my
eyes, feel through my senses, orgasm through me.

Beyond the cataclysmic act of marriage, the
extempore sex, there were the bites, my bountiful
harvest. Intertwined deeply into the
onomatopoeia of our lives, the quiet
lassitude of a passion without a name,
desires too shameful and too secret. Their
exclamations still ring in the vaults, the windowless
rooms we met in, never seeing each others' faces.






Poetry by Arti
Read 647 times
Written on 2007-09-02 at 07:35

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Kathy Lockhart
Arti, you are an amazing talent! This is absolutely outstanding poetry. You left me breathless!
2007-09-02


lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
hey Arti this is a beautiful poem and it is so noice to see you writing here again on a regular basis please stay around rgds mike
2007-09-02


M Heathcote
Hi Arti

Wow, what erotica, Madonna
would be proud of you!
And I really do like these words!

Their exclamations still ring in the vaults,
the windowless rooms we met in :)
2007-09-02