The oil is heated

and the sheets turned down,

candles are preferred

setting secluded in corners

their tiny flame like secret places-

secret soft slender places I touch,

my tongue the flame,

stirring, secluded

light to light

and moon shapes to erectness-

each of them moving through

the sky to their stations,

rivers flowing strong,

in the meantime,

flicker,

ah!

Flicker!

Ah!

moving toward more flame!

 

 

19 October 2008

Dave Barber

Touching Secret Places

 

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