Stay with me.
Think, often, of the way you looked at me the first time we met.
Intermingled thoughts of my mouth on your soft, inviting skin. Taste of salt.
Cradling myself inside your eyes like a basilisk. Like Medusa. How much I resent needing you.
Your palming my breasts, my small, dangerous breasts. The desperation that unleashes in me.
Bite my tongue and slip on your sweat. Land between your armpit and the crook of my knee.
I want you in doorways, and snip my etiquette. Which the knife, and which the spoon.
Preemptory. Transgressive. My desire burrowing inside you. My filled-to-blossom womb.
I thought I didn't recognize you at first, but I do.
Desire means Imma make an animal out of you. A note on my desk reading 'men who'd keep me'
You, reminding I don't want to be kept. Just unhinged. Strip off my skin, scale back my tongue.
The taste of strawberries out of season. The furtive delight of having something you're not supposed to want.
The need. The clothes. The shedding of my mink.
I hate you because wanting you strips time, and slithers shame under my skin.
The thought of you naked inside a foreign flat. Oblivious to sawdust. To pinpricks under your skin.
The place you touched my tongue and spliced my pleasure. Here when you're there.
At the same time. Me before you, but why choose. Collapse into exhaustion.
Look down at you, gaze up into me, you're the thing that fantasies get me drunk on.
And I wish I could explain. The way black, unfiltered lust blends into loving you.
Should know when to stop, but if I don't, who'll blow the whistle, and who'll referee?
When the village doesn't claim you as a child, you risk wasting whole lives begging for it
All from one person. The burning-cheek, l-l-lisp. Stutter into unravel. Open my wings to bliss.
Once upon a lie, I claimed I didn't recognize you, but knew your
Mad, syncopated doctor's mask, the asylums we've wound in and out of all our lives searching for each other,
The chasing that premeditates desire. The bait I'd hoped you'd take was more than just a transitory thing.
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Wow. There's a lot going on in this poem. Love/lust, liberation/destruction, desire/shame. I enjoyed the phrase snip my etiquette to portray desire that could be a challenge to societal norms. Your ending speaks to wanting more than just lust and to a real deeper connection. Would you say that was your core message?
Salty desire, well written. I miss those lustful days, sometimes.