Friday, November 02, 2007

Poem #306 of 365

Delivery of nouns
happens without
the basket or the sack.

There is naming in
your mouth, and I
will read that list
when you finally kiss me.

I ordered the verbs:
caress, thrust, stroke,
and hold,

yet the market cannot
bear this love, assign
a value to this rust.

Bring me the water
to fill my mouth,
gargling to filter
distress, deny, distaste.

I make room for your nouns
in my clairvoyant sway,
opening doors to air the day.

Finally: thicket, trunk,
trust, and tremble.

I climb the noisy trunk
of your body, lose myself
in the tremble of your
heartbeat thicket, and
stretch along your length
as far as the rumor of love can trust.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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