Steve Kowit

By Posted here
September 29, 2006
3 comments

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

By Posted here
September 26, 2006
0 comments

In the Morning

In the morning,
holding her mirror,
the young woman
touches
her tender
lip with
her finger &
then with
the tip of
her tongue
licks it &
smiles
& admires her
eyes.

– Steve Kowit

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