New drafft I got the inspiration for this one Thursday while sitting behind someone in class, and with a little time between classes I started jotting it down in my notebook. Definitely a little on the rough side yet. It's a poem about the physical, not necessariliy in an erotic sense though one could interpret it that way. It's more to do with the wonder that strikes me about the human body. I don't see that many people up close, I don't see many people period. I'm much more comfortable dealing with minds, and I have to remind myself that, in that sophisticated network of the human body is a mind up there driving and pulling the levers.
Hope you like it, I always like to hear suggestions. <g>
Body Epistle
Pinch me,
I don't believe I'm awake
You're real flesh
your lungs breathe real air,
I don't believe in
old wive's tales
I don't believe I'm
in my fingers, when
they press down the warm skin
on your real shoulders then
land upon the edges of your
tender skeleton.
The lines on my claws
are not as sharp when
your real face is between them.
They pirouette and sing
and crack with the friction
of the heat of a warm body
like two epdiermic torches
that put light and heat
under the scarves you
keep against the drfiting snow
of our isolated winter.
There's a lot more
of your sixty seven inches
in the room than in the
photographs I've seen of you,
sixty seven more inches of
a natural elixir to
unclog my head and untie
the knots in my throat, and
with my tongue I'll taste
the salt of your mind.
1:20:56 AM 
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