A Garden of Delights

Posted on: March 1, 2012

I only just found Maggie Mae’s page (well, not technically true… I peeked a few weeks ago, but clearly I didn’t spend enough time there) Please! Take the time to read not only this piece but so many others of hers. I despair to ever write poetry of such intensity.

maggiemaeijustsaythis

My Lord,

I know you in language,
not
by your fingertips,
or your tongue,
or your eyes,
or your voice,
or heavy petting,
or lip smacking.

I do not know the scent of your release,
or the heaviness of your desire,
or the longing in your sighs,
or the length of your reach.

I do not know your grip,
your push,
your gasp for a breath,
your touch,
your taste,
your hunger.

My Lord,

I know you in vocabulary,
in depiction.

I know you in daydream
where
I have felt your limit,
where I have forfeited myself
in the aroma
of your pleasure,
where I have met you at the top
of the mountain,
the highest peak,
where we have gasped for air
together,
fingers entwined,
legs braided,
excreting deliquescent
adoration.

My Lord,

I speak in daydream,
lost in lust language
where I know you.

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