Dangerous Woman
I like this poem, so I’m posting it again hoping it might attract some nearby friendly she-wolf, howling at the same moon!
Poised on the end of the couch hugging a pillow,
She crouches in the center of her den.
The She Wolf laughs and shows me her teeth
Just in case I hadn’t previously noticed them,
When I first walked into her space…
Seeking shelter from my private storms
of deadly sunshine and circumstances.
Her eyes assess me with a playful indifference,
She casually tosses her shaggy dark mane.
As if to say, “Go ahead, try and pet me;
If you have no further use for your hands”.
I assume that she needs no male for paternal protection.
So I sit and I read her poetry, instead of fleeing…
The sight of dried blood on her coat,
In the vague hopes that my painted words will quell the risk of instinctual savagery.
I try to make friends with her teeth and soothe her worried brow.
“Look, I’m a lone wolf too”
So, as if to prove the point, I howl at the moon and the
Diamond stars above us.
Outside the cave of my rising desire’s expectation.
I let the moon consume my aimless thoughts of senseless direction.
This seductress has already seduced me
With the arch of her haunches and her scent of bare-tooth savagery
The she-wolf cackles in delight at my wary fascination.
I try to remain calm, still, and open like a book.
I do want to be read by her, but gently, fondly, tenderly.
Lest she succumb to her bone-instinct and devour me!
LOVE IS AN ANGEL DISGUISED AS LUST by Igor Goldkind
LOVE IS AN ANGEL DISGUISED AS LUST
What is this thing that you can’t speak of?
This flirtation that will not hold its tongue but would rather hold yours between its teeth
And bite the thwarted anticipation of your mad fear’s confusion.
for fuck’s sake, what’s to choose?
Your body has already chosen for you
I hear it calling me on the telephone it anticipates my touch
it intakes your breath
it recalls my lips onto yours this tongue wets a damp crevice and summons the river
and it flows like no other desire from phone to train to bedroom
a churning current that carves out cliffs on the shoreline on the way plowing across the months and years exposing the bone and sinew of yes,
pure lust
DESIRE!
Pure Beautiful Carnal Longing
that is the truthful stench of black damp earth pregnant with all of life; pregnant with who you and I will become
when One again.
When turning and churning, unraveling and raveling the bed sheets again.
The furious spinning of uplift resisting all gravity.
There’s a vertigo to our desire but no, I will not let you fall.
Recall, hear my cries of consummation in your arms, rising and falling, dancing between your upturned thighs
Recall your gasps of surprised delight
As the wings of a fallen angel unfurl to take in the return to paradise. You can feel this all again with me, baby.
There ever, ever was another
. I’m just waiting to take you again.
Paintings of Medusa by Nancy Farmer © 2014 for the Poem in the collection IS SHE AVAILABLE? (Chameleon)
igorgoldkind
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