I am the scent that

clings to his skin

melting my hands

which slide

the texture like that of

leaves bathed with dew.

I am the crinkle

of a smile

that defines his brow, I

am the dust under his shoes

the curl of his toes, the music

in his steps,

clutching my waist

turning me around and


I am the word that rolls

behind his tongue

a magnet on his lips, I breathe

his essence.  In the mellifluous

utterance of my name,

the air bends

sending a rivulet into bubbles,

palpitations at the tip of my hair

the murmurs in the night,

the shade of fire

in his eyes.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My friend commented that most of my poems don�t have an erotic effect on them. She challenged me to write one. I thought of Pablo Neruda and his signature sensuality and inventive imagery in poems. Sorry, the closest thing I could come up with is... this one. When I get married, I�ll satisfy their wishes, then. :P

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Corey Fox's picture

This is beautiful!
one love Corey & co