VIII
Cradle me against your heartbeat;
cradle me also against
the inner main-land
of your thigh-bone.
Let me savor the ecological system
whence body length
and pressure point meets
a language of pure preservation
becoming a stroke of sensual fury,
a place where a kiss
could be transformed
into a falcon or a Cardinal
in accordance to rotation
or better yet a morsel
to the eyes of a wolf
beseeching moonlight.
Take me; press me against your libido
as if I were marjoram or sage,
an aromatic mixture,
urging the mangroves
of your femaleness
to stir you up
through shallow
horizontal breathing.
Alina Galliano
From the book...The days of sunflowers.
alinapoeta@hotmail.com
Website:
www.gallianopoetry.com