Val Morehouse

Rookie - 4 Points (California)

Making Guacamole - Poem by Val Morehouse

Half moon rising under cypress skin I slip open
the way green light flashes between
naked forest limbs.

Deep. Shiny. Eager.
Your hands touch me like leaves in a wind.
Come. Crush me down.

Buttery as celadon satin, my sweet flesh smiles
under this whisper of fingertips.
Forget the clock.

Like cream I will give up smooth secrets,
ripen on your tongue.
Pharaoh. Let my body be your boat.

Stir this reedy Nile.
Knife through my depths.
Gift me with spices, Exotic Beggar.

Let your peppery heat sink into my
emerald treasure and I will
speak with the voice of a goddess.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, June 17, 2007

Poem Edited: Saturday, March 12, 2011


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