Concerned with my pain
the old shoulder acting up again
you sit
astride
my back
as if I were a horse
cluck the reins
press your heels in
as if they were spurs
& tell me giggly
to giddy up
“What happened the massage? ”
I neigh.
“Oh yes! ”
Your nakedness
slides up & down my back
the moistness
of your sex
burning into my skin.
“Is that good? ”
Your fingers probe.
I moan.
Then moan
again.
Glancing in the mirror
I see me
like a snail
& you my shell
& now I
the octopus
in the Japanese erotic print
DREAM OF THE FISHERMAN’S WIFE
both of us
joined now
at the hip & lip
softly becoming
something else
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem