Sunday, September 2, 2012

Jeremiah 13 (Third Draft)

Take the white and tie it beneath the rock.

Take the rock and shove it beneath the river.

Take her, softly, between your fingers,
breathe her between your thighs.

Water flows over rocks the color of your fingers;
white breaks like bracken -tongues swirl like eddies.

Do eddies swirl, or did I read that in a book, somewhere? What a cliche!


Like quivering thighs, or some such metaphor for the love of God,
for birth, death, creation, coiled up into this moment,
into your tongue's flickering and unflickering into my mouth -
but I don't think that word exists in dictionaries.

Fuck dictionaries. Fuck you.


Rejection is not the splitting of lips like reed seas - it is simply an alternative ending to the fairytale,
like when Hansel told Gretel he disliked her gingerbread cookies:

She sat in the snow and cried, blond hair and red mittens spilling into white-covered ground.

Does brown earth remind you of a graveyard?

You shushed kisses into her ears,
felt the rounded tips fit into the crevices between your lips,
the furling and unfurling of tongues - the bracken, floating
between round rocks that once held white foam,
between thighs, between fingers - breathe softly.

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