#petting
Heat Lightening
by Michael R. Burch
Each night beneath the elms, we never knew
which lights beyond dark hills might stall, advance,
then lurch into strange headbeams tilted up
like searchlights seeking contact in the distance . . .
Quiescent unions . . . thoughts of bliss, of hope . . .
long-dreamt appearances of wished-on stars . . .
like childhood’s long-occluded, nebulous
slow drift of half-formed visions . . . slip and bra . . .
Wan moonlight traced your features, perilous,
in danger of extinction, should your hair
fall softly on my eyes, or should a kiss
cause them to close, or should my fingers dare
to leave off childhood for some new design
of whiter lace, of flesh incarnadine.
NOTE: The title is not a typo but a double entendre. Keywords/Tags: sonnet, rhyme, love, lust, desire, *** petting, necking, parking, date, dating, lovers' lane
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 8:34 PM UTC
The sun is already warming
the first arousal of morning
but my lover is traveling the hills
and valleys of her dreams still.
Sweetpea knows the sounds
of my awakening and abounds
onto the bed’s corner place
where I read my first daily stirring of grace.
She knows of all the places she could land
it is here she gets the glide of my left hand
my hand across her soft brown coat she is well-versed
for she knows this time of day she is first.
“Feline First,” Copyright © 2018 by Glenn Currier
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC
I want to see my lipstick smeared across your collarbones
And your DNA etched under my fingernails
I crave you in ways that even Neruda could not write of
And with a fire the ocean could not even quench
And someday when the earth is overcome by android like substitutes
And we as humans are exterminated one by one
I'll remember the way the light danced in your eyes
and how our curious hands could not be satisfied by even the most all knowing touch
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC