And then Poem by Nuala Ní Chonchúir

after Gerry Murphy
And then, of course,
your down-soft hair
your eyes of Liffey and moss
your ears of shell and curlicue
your nose of slope and steam
your mouth of sizzle and fizz
your lips of pucker and pull
your tongue of brass and honey
your voice of breakneck forgiveness
toppling down the wires to soothe me

your throat of dip and tenderness
your shoulders of silk and steel
your back of strength and curve
your arms of tattoo and sanctuary
your hands of languor and urgency
your chest of power and perfection
your belly of pleasure and plenty
your bod of bellowing nectar
waiting to be caught

your buttocks of drumlin and valley
your thighs of secretive splendour
your calves of ox and sinew
your feet of oh-so-welcome spontaneity
all of you.