Sensually Spent in Poetry is the Window to the Soul...

  • Nov. 25, 2020, 2:15 a.m.
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“Sensually Spent”

You burn clean through me
With your wandering, lustful stare
Your eyes I can tell hold visions
Of vistas mine have never held
And I think of you now
And so very often
More than I dare ever admit
Because there’s a chemistry
That cosmic current of electricity
Coursing beyond my mind’s eye
To your bare, supple thighs
Where imagining meets reality
That terrifies me in the very
Worst best kinds of ways

If life were but a risky offer
Double down on this hand
My heart beats sweeter
And far fleeter
When you are nearer
Than for any other
I have and never have
Coaxed to the precarious
Heightened edges
Of physical climax
Only to push
So desperately over
And left us but a tangled mess
Sordid in splendor
Sensually spent

© Brian Milici
November 24, 2020

Thanksgiving like so many things seems incomplete and but a shadow moment in a calendar so full of them that keeps turning pages yet at times in such a dreamy way. Which isn’t to say wholly pleasant. Nightmares abound, of course. I think any hope for normalcy is but human nature as much as a child reaching for the beloved toy or one’s lucky jersey or cute pair of jeans. We are creatures of comfort, and in the world today we find it so infrequent because those with louder voices realize theirs remains the loudest in the room when there is no calm. Tranquility is much the barrier to power it seems. This world tumbles over.

I wonder if we will ever slow this machine just enough to take a long look over the ledge.

Tik tok.

May you always find your smile.

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