her one arm

every day/ early in the morn’

i push my feet against an

unseen rock

covered up to my thighs

in the mud of heavy thought

i struggle free with you my soul

and other half

that gives me hope in a few hours

when the intimate wrestling will

turn into touches

that become physical caresses

with the wine-press of the body

upon the the grapes of love we have

collected patiently day in day out.

no other love seemed to walk

on barren land of clay

my feet moulded into the unseen

woman i fell upon

and she came alive/ her breast would

cushion my fall

nipples as hard as doorknobs

i placed my lips upon

my glove of foreskin that opened

the door of her innermost

a sea of lust that swpt me away

what wonderful games/ like children

we played hide and seek

with hearts pounding like crescendos

never before

and her caress a tight squeeze

her one arm that held me tight.


zjg poetry’10/ ’21

One thought on “her one arm

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