I couldn’t wear that
white dress you painted
tapering into the blue.
So I lay with
you naked.
The unbuttoning
of a politely curved lip
tips kisses
on my chest,
Stomache,
funnybone,
clavicle,
wishbone.
I stammer a preface
to your impatient hands,
impaled
by my prattle,
as a litany of tongues
imprisons my groans
and my ear sleeps
on a bed of your sighs.
Amanda Joy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wishbone-clavicle-kiss/
