Open Poetry #17 |
The Figurehead |
RMW Senior Member
since 2001-03-21
Posts 1424 |
The Figurehead Take not these words into your bed and there upon a lectern made of milky thighs yawn and read for sleep to come. Better that your breasts were wood, stained and deeply cleaved with need to thrill, as men both old and young, stripped to their waists, lean and plunge against the capstan. Round and round their lusty song depraves the counting rooms of merchants who narrowly at night return to wives who sigh and long for curtains. The open sea; the rise and run and rhythm of its poetry belongs to you. Come. Topless at the window stand and with your hair blown back command the resin of your lungs to breathe. RMW |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
Well dear sir... this one is indeed a gem. I enjoyed a geat deal...but I always enjoy your words... good to read you again. |
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RMW Senior Member
since 2001-03-21
Posts 1424 |
Thanks, Ron. Always good to read yours too....which I do. Take care. Have a good Thanksgiving. Bob |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I needed this! |
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