July 31, 2012

poem 255 of a poem a day for 2012



clocking Vesuvius

each poem
is a home
where my desire
to be heard
goes to root
like my fingers
outstretching
into your hair

at night
with the window open
I am certain
that I have
been here
before time
became chains

I close my eyes
to lift your scent
into the foundry
of words that know
my tensing of
abdominal muscles
is curling potential
into kinetic again
slow building
the magma of
each further
each exhale
each billow
on the pillow
that you are
propped against

and somewhere inside me
is the compass
and the key
to reach
into the glory
of your sea
salt
steam
and hiss
it starts
simply
with a kiss

EJR ©

4 comments:

  1. Before time became chains...I FELT that stinger...fantastic piece!

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  2. wow...smoking hot piece...great build to it as you progress....felt...and i hope those poems have doors so the emotion can get out to the one intended...smiles.

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  3. Well now, this is a new favorite and I think will be for some time to come. Just perfection.

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