ECLIPSE

All these desires the pulsing
lips of them the rolling
red wine tongue of them the nose
the fresh ripe pear of them
bitten dripping down the neck of them

the velvet fingertips on belly hair
of them the rose petal bouncing smooth
hard flesh of them the sudden ache
the long slow sweet hot fire of them
the night the full moon comes
and they eclipse her.

© Joan Barton, 1998

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