Readying schoolwork for my final writing portfolio - due next week. The following is a prose poem that I had written for a Writing Capstone class. We were told to take risks...apparently this was a bit too risque...
The best feedback I received was from a fellow student who work-shopped the poem, "I felt completely violated...and I enjoyed it."
The Taking
Your tenor eyes match a voice like the wet sand that the spice ships slice into at dawn. Your Mediterranean skin is smooth like avocado flesh. Your body: sinew under culture. I could bite that lower lip. But where would I stop? When would I stop? I could tug at it with teeth as your eyes roll in ecstasy to an azure heaven where the angels spin their robes of white. Your mouth is delicate and pliable like red wine with a second core hint of fruit. It is to be waited for.
Beneath your collar lies you cosmic rhythm. It is distracting, lush, and unguarded. I could languidly move from your mouth to your neck, to your low lying lobe; where you will hear only my breath, your pulse. Would I consume you? Perhaps.
You taste like a guttural moment.
Like the vessels on the edge of storm, I would release that sail; your hand-stitched Moroccan shirt. Then lick the salt from your wounds and seek harbor in your shadows. My desire is not one of creation. My desire is one of satiety.
I will not offer you life beyond your own. I can only offer you the air that caresses the nightshades with all its terrifying uncaring comfort. I can only suggest to you the marble steps and writhing in full view of your ancestors - for this is the spark of living that civilization can barely recall. Perhaps I will offer you nothing. Perhaps I am only here to take.
It is just a thought. It is just a moment. It is just upon us.
Convention be Damned - Take Risks
Namaste
