.
.
she is a fish
with sea shaped gills
throughout the night
I pour water on her
my tongue can decipher
waterfall linguistics
an electric factory
with ample juice
to finally eviscerate
the reservoir inside
she swallows the ocean
when she drowns
call of tidal moon
pucker of quivered lips
saturated she wriggles
breathless on the bed
CH 2oo8
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4 comments:
I like the central image/metaphor of this poem, and its a good draft. Love the final stanza.
Thanks for stopping in Rachel!! It's just a little fishy poem, nuttin to heavy. Winks!!
Smiles!
B
Nuttin' too heavy? Damn, B but you are also the master of understatement too...aren't you?
That "little fishy poem" has a very sexy sexy ring.
I soooo wish I was a mermaid right now. I'd most certainly sing my Siren's Song.
Kisses,
Tess
Hiya Tess!!
So glad your enjoyed Fishy, she's still flopping around by the way, wanting more water and tongue language translation. Oh fishy...Smiles!!
Thanks for the read and comment friend!
Hugs!
RJ
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