SeaLust
I am lost
in a tidepool of lust -
soft frondlike fingers wrap round my gaped legs
and, forced to my knees, mouth a circle of coral,
swift salty swirls of prisoned seawater caress,
then attack my dark folds of wet flesh,
teasing and coaxing long-slumbering desire
like a stray slippery fish drawing forth the moray
from his cavernous grave in the deep.
My nipples are stiff with the ripeness of passion,
pointed to pique the attentions of far-off Orion,
who strides cross the sky with his belt full of stars
intent on subduing that great bullish beast,
no sharp thoughts of pink carnal petals disturbing
the vision of blood and of conquest he carries.
I feel miniature claws at my soft pendant breasts
as pincers of passionate sandy-shelled creatures
ascend to the summit of consciousness,
while below, many fathoms removed from my torment
laughs Neptune, that impotent god of the sea,
his tail, long and glittering, thrashing the water
as vainly he grasps and caresses the spot where if human
all life would spring forth.
But he can do nothing, despite his provenance
over seastars and whales and all other creatures
bound firmly to brine and to wild wind-tossed waves.
His trident is blunted by fish scales and flippers,
no more than the hunter who roams starry skies
can he surface to soothe the hot sting of flesh
burned by the sun, then assaulted by water
as viscid as blood.
'vette
fantasia (serenade for stoney)
bright
beams battering bold darkness
as i floor it
and my red rocket roars whining through the shadowland
wind whipping as i fly by silent sentinel cactus
with stiff green arms stretched skyward
their spiky spines never disturbed by my blazing contrail
as the wheels fly like marbles on a glasstopped table over the narrow
ribbon road
snaking on curves and pounding pounding ahead to oblivion on the straightaways
i never see the stars smell the desert night feel the chilly air
but in the faraway canyons of my mind i hear coyotes howl
their sweet sad voices take me back over lost agos
and straight to that time when everything
- everything -
was black and white
no shades of gray to muddy life with endless questions
no shifting sands
no bonds of obligation
no age
no death
but only my red rocket and coyotes
Copyright © 2000 Regina Coeli deWinter
