For Time’s a Thrifty Whore

Boxers round ankles, making murmurs I held you. Kissed you. 
A radiator clung to, I heated the bed. 
You grabbed my thighs. Eyes undressed me though I was bare. 
A smile upturned my mouth.
I memorised every angle, shadow of your face.
Washed my mind of everything except how you’re made. 
My finger followed the bones down and lingered there. 

Hand in hair you leant to me eyes closed. 
Nooked neck I breathed a beat of wind against skin, tongued round lobes,
hands massaged the back of your neck. I was home, there. 
I pecked a sweaty row of caramel. Stick after stick after stick a list of verbs, 
no nouns, just doing words curled up in your collar bone. 
Two bodies bound, bow-tied 
by jigsaw hands.

Could have lain there forever but Time’s a thrifty whore.

boxersfor time's a thrifty whoremaxsexthe for serieswallis

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Comments

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Chris Dawson

Wed 7th Apr 2010 07:39

Very strong images, agree with Ann - intense. Your words are always very interesting.
Cx

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Ann Foxglove

Wed 7th Apr 2010 06:05

A really strong, ernest, intense poem. The last two lines really made it, for me!

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