lunedì 18 marzo 2013

Si

And suddenly, again,I want the long road of your thighunder my hand, your well-travelled thigh,your salt-slicked & come-slicked thigh,and I want the taste of you, slaking,under my tongue (that place of riding desire,my tongue) and I wantall the unnameable, soft, and yielding places,belly & neck & the place wings would rise fromif we were angels,and we are, and I want the rising regions of youshoulder & cock & tongue & breathing &suddenness of youopeningall fontanel, all desire, the whole thing beginningfor the first time again, the first,until I wonder then how is itwe even know which part we are,even know the ground that lifts us, raucous,out of ourselves,as the rising sound of a summer dawnwhen all of it joins in.–Jane Hirshfield, “Of Gravity & Angels”
Pubblicato da alle
Etichette: , , ,

Nessun commento:

Posta un commento

Iscriviti a: Commenti sul post (Atom)