Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2016  Vol. 15 No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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His mouth moves to the teardrop below my lips:
deluge into Composition VI’s pink and white softness
feeling the center of a kiss—the centered balance of him,
the way his skin comes out at night—the way the rain comes,
the darkness, the deluge surrounding valentine hues—
diagonals nearing the center, craving for more. Give us more drops,
as in Marilyn Minter’s girls feeding the mouth scrumptiously:
feed me, feed me, lick and bite—
diamonds and pearl necklaces clutched by red lips,
aggressively licking—bodies pressed against a shower,
the camera angling in on the rain over the tongue,
then a final seduction: bodies out of the shower,
lying on the floor—cologne bottle between breasts,
cologne bottle on crotch,
the final seduction, the final tease:
red nails all over bottle, luring him like a bull to the color,
a bee to the smell—his hands all over.