Image for the poem Seven


On our first night you must not touch me, nor on our second night together. We will simply be together, promenade, we feed each other and look at the birds and the horses. You can hold me on the third night and press your clothed body upon me but that is all. You cannot look at my nakedness unless I do not see you. You will take me to the little shop at the corner and buy me a dress or two. One will be for our walks together, another for an evening by the sea and for making love. The fourth night you can feel me with your hands and kiss me. We shall explore each other's faces until we fall asleep. On the fifth, we shall go to the night market and search for new things to eat, exotic things like cherry tomatoes dipped in syrup and roasted shiitake mushrooms and tofu. I would love some olives flavoured in garlic and rosemary and chilli. We shall sleep naked together and touch lightly. On the sixth we should listen to some music and drink young wine, perhaps at that lantern-lit pier. And when the sun goes down, on our seventh evening, I will wear that dress, that wild embroidered organza of sheer and black, a summer dress for the evening. And we dance, hold each other as we have dreamed. I will have known your scent and your touch and I will comfortably press my head upon your breast and listen to your heart beating. Then in the quiet of the night and hidden behind the risque of gauzy curtains, we will kiss deeply. We will discover each other's bodies as slowly as a candle burns in the still evening air. The heat of the night, of our longing, will make us sweat as we glide upon each other, such delicious sweat of our bodies. We shall lick each other's scars and breathe the sweet scent of the moist between our legs. Our kisses will be more profound than the fervour of our verses, more delectable than any love that we have known. You will spread open this flower and lick every surface of its petals, and your jewels will be upon my mouth, suckled and caressed gently so gently. We will cradle each other, love, from this evening until forever.

Photo: The Menagerie in Amsterdam, 2005. F. Lasay.
Written by absinthe
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