where we merge

My hands move into silk the green

silk with you under it

 

and you (this is where I kiss you)

 

stand against the morning the new

morning with the kiss of sun under it

 

(this is where you kiss me) you will

 

turn your gaze your brown-eyed

gaze with me under it

 

you will touch my (every every) lips my

lips to hold the precious

 

memory of their prayer

against your (every every) freckle

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Inspired by a beautiful woman in green, and written in the style of one of her favorite poets.  

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S74rw4rd-13d's picture

Visiting this one again, it

Visiting this one again, it is just as fresh a paean to intimate love as on the first reading.  This is one of those poems that the reader knows will last for a long, long time.


Starward-Led [in Chrismation, Januarius]

allets's picture

Prepositions

Knit the poem especially different uses of "under". Nice. 
 


 

 

patriciajj's picture

Reading this is stepping into

Reading this is stepping into a miracle. The moment you framed is ecstatic, but the language, the billowing tenderness, the use of color as a vehicle into the deepest pleasure is . . . Oh God, a leap of greatness. You are a virtuoso of words and it's unnecessary to say more. 

 

Your work speaks for itself. Respect. 

Vincent's picture

Thank you, Patricia.  You're

Thank you, Patricia.  You're very kind. 

S74rw4rd-13d's picture

I have read this poem again,

I have read this poem again, and am just "knocked over" by its nuanced beauty.  Wow!  I have recommended it to patriciajj, postpoems' most accomplished poet.


Starward-Led [in Chrismation, Januarius]

S74rw4rd-13d's picture

This is one of the finest

This is one of the finest love poems I have ever read!, on postpoems or elsewhere.  Can you share the name of the poet alluded to in the notation to your poem?


Starward-Led [in Chrismation, Januarius]

Vincent's picture

Starward,   Thank you for the

Starward,

 

Thank you for the kind words.  That poet is ee cummings.  

S74rw4rd-13d's picture

Thank you for the reply. 

Thank you for the reply.  When I was a freshman in high school, Estlin Cummings was the first poet I ever read.  My mother and I both adored his poem, "anyone lived in a pretty how town."  Akthough mom and I disagreed on most everything, we always agreed on the beauty of that poem.  Thanks again for your gracious reply, and your poem, let me repeat, is wonderful.


Starward-Led [in Chrismation, Januarius]