eros at play

it’s sharp and clear

in front of me

when i woke into

a wintry morn’s light

snowflakes falling rapidly

saturated with moisture

not dancing down like

in days gone by

when life was easier

drunken by a dream about

a young Simchi – back then

mischi –

child-woman worming up

with her warm thighs onto

my sunburned thigh

clasping sacred embrace

to see about her tiny

bubbles on her forehead

her dr-hubby supposed to

open up and drain –

the touches of her thigh

chafing my own

felt deeply erotic –

so see what an e-mail may

cause such sweet a dream

with my aunt in a nun’s habit

sitting next to us


and from then on

the poet will extend the play

of his intuition.

do we meet 2x in life?

eros at play.



One thought on “eros at play

  1. when the poet dreams, he hardly notices as it’s subtle and continual
    but when a pic appears crystal-clear, he is shaken deeply, and his
    whole existence feels the tremor of soul and body.

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