When He Pressed His Lips

When he pressed his lips to my mouth
the knot fell open of itself.
When he pressed them to my throat
the dress slipped to my feet.
So much I know—but
when his lips touched my breast
everything, I swear,
down to his very name,
became so much confused
that I am still,
dear friends,
unable to recount
(as much as I would care to)
what delights
were next bestowed upon me
& by whom.

after Vikatanitamba

— Steve Kowit

3 Comments on “When He Pressed His Lips”

  1. Ann Marie

    I knew “him”…he loved my body, he loved my brain…but he did not want my heart.

    Still. It’s an experience I wouldn’t trade for the world. When I am old and gray and sitting in the rocking chair at the home, he will be the reason for the smile on my face…

    D…wherever you are – xoxoxo


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