the unknown

You leave traces of sin down the side of my neck,

approaching the collarbone

like footprints.

Though they are lips-

your lips, those faltering mismatched twins

stowing away secrets on the crown of your chin.

Parting for desire's sake, when lust lingers too long

and your tongue begs release.


I desire that slow march towards

death.

That search for all which is hidden,

every finite point of unrest.

To sustain and warm,

as breath makes promises upon my skin.

Reviews

[Tara]

This is beautiful and sensual.

[Arthur Henn]

Why has not anyone commented on this. Nice!

That search for all which is hidden (my favorite line)

Another great poem.