The Kiss

Her face is full of angles and bones;
Our teeth click
In a tangle of tongue and lip;
Her eyes stare at my face,
Seeing nothing in particular
And certainly not me -
Yet her eyes a full of dumb
Adoration;
Her fingers
Touch my face and my lips,
Touch my face and my lips,
And she murmers,
Your lips are divine -
Divine!
And I wonder if it is always
This heavy-breathing comic book,
Tongue meeting tongue in a swirl of bacteria,
The drunken hour of midnight
Breathing nectar-flower language
Supported by the electrical passion of music -
And however I try
To gloss her hair and her lips,
To bring the conventions to my lips,
I can't shut out
The click, click, click
Of teeth and of numbers -
The computations and permutations
Of the bitter angel, Analysis,
The truthsayer who never sleeps.

by elias neema

Comments (2)

details en thrive the interest of the reader, computations great word to used
To bring the conventions to my lips, I loved this phraze