By Posted here
September 29, 2006
2 comments
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When He Pressed His Lips

When he pressed his lips to my mouth
the knot fell open of itself.
When he pressed them to my throat
the dress slipped to my feet.
So much I know—but
when his lips touched my breast
everything, I swear,
down to his very name,
became so much confused
that I am still,
dear friends,
unable to recount
(as much as I would care to)
what delights
were next bestowed upon me
& by whom.

after Vikatanitamba

– Steve Kowit

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Catherine M. September 29, 2006 at 9:49 am

*whew, fanning self* Ooh, la la!!

Reply

Sherry Thomas October 1, 2006 at 4:21 pm

Who is this he? And how can I sleep with him?

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