Remembering Her: Naked Hunger
Under the sun, birds soar, and ice crackles
In the beautiful yet freezing setting
Of a stage as breathtaking
As it is organic, flowing in currents as snowfall begins.
Visibility is deliciously elusive,
As I catch snowflakes
On my shivering tongue, thinking
Of distant moments that quietly whisper.
What is the taste, smell, sound
And colour of joy? I have one version
That begs to confess an experience
Described as magical, in a transcontinental setting.
Shall we record how diametrically opposite roots
Merge together in the act of love, practiced
Experimentally, as I explore the fleeting excitement
That coursed through me?
I am blessed to share it
With a woman ahead of her time,
Meandering through difficult realms
That define her challenges to this day.
She has golden hair, coupled
With pale skin, that is blemished
In rouge so easily and sometimes
Finds itself burned by Apollo’s gaze.
Her eyes twinkle with laughter
As precious as the sight
Of the Koh-i-Noor, if it too
Was formed of the Arabian Gulf waters.
Hardened stood I, before her nose
A sensitive, trembling entity
That flared if I dared
To incite a loss of temper.
Her teeth nibbled at times,
On food too lacking in quantity
Yet they knew their place,
When her tongue sought supremacy.
Her mouth was cavernous and plentiful,
For it gave and received joy indiscriminately,
While uncertain of its future, playing gently
With the soft muscle surrounding our cheeks.
We flew somewhere together, faced with
Cliffs so white and ancient stone
Engulfing our sense of ecstasy
As we beheld the marvels of the sea.
We sent our charges away, sometimes teasing
Each other, that we would be fine parents
For having sought out our desire above
The priorities of our children, as they learned
We climbed on the other back, as waves crashed
On a rocky shore, I was pinned to a wall
She took her pleasure there, devouring me,
Hesitations cast to the wind in our passion.
Limping slightly, we became gluttons
Consumed by our naked hunger
Belying the thirst we shared for intimacy
That was meaningful, and touched us
At our core.
Becoming one is simple, and devastating
When we realise that one was always two
For there is little pleasure in separation
From that transcontinental land.