Passionate Hearts: The Poetry of Sexual Love
By Wendy Maltz
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I laughed so low, so deep, that I couldn’t think the sort of sound may well come from my bare physique, a similar flesh that when may possibly merely titter in disgrace. What ultimately did it? Your palms, these arms, that didn’t cease touching each sexual position: nape of the neck, naked returned, undersides of breasts. made up our minds, these fingers set unfastened a girl no longer sated with fast assembly, mating, labored corners, crevices — until eventually that snicker got here effervescent out of me, unexpected rapture • sixty three• Passionate Hearts I didn’t deny, a valid that may by no means be furtive back, proud and loud in its place, so loud that associates needs to ask yourself what it truly is you’re giving me, their ears burning once they pay attention the laughs that simply preserve coming, emerging out of me to prevent site visitors at the street, drivers slowing to hear the main pleasure they’ve ever heard.
Paper) ISBN-10: 1-57731-567-7 1. Erotic poetry. 2. Love poetry. I. Maltz, Wendy. PN6110. E65P37 2007 808. 81'93538—dc22 2006033780 ISBN-10: 1-57731-567-7 ISBN-13: 978-1-57731-567-4 First printing, December 1996 First printing of tenth-anniversary variation, January 2007 published in Canada on acid-free partly recycled paper New international Library is a proud member of the golf green Press Initiative. disbursed through Publishers workforce West 10 nine eight 7 6 five four three 2 1 To Larry, my Love CONTENTS by means of barry mccarthy, phd by means of molly peacock FOREWORD PREFACE advent xiii 1 three bankruptcy ONE smooth awakenings THE timber that modify OUR LIVES gary soto SHARING alan yount SPRING typhoon johanna rayl THE RIVER patti tana red IS the colour OF THE LONGING 25 27 29 30 32 david steinberg TANGO’D LOVE j.
Michael s. smith • 184• G R A C E F U L T R A N S F O R M AT I O N S dual FLAMES Embers of evening flare up afresh in the event you ignite the morning in my palms and kindle the commonly used fire of affection yr after yr now we have warmed our lives round the secret of mutual hearth that heats our area of chance and rapture every time scorched in spite of the fact that scarred we hearten heal reconflagrate dual flames ever in completely satisfied blaze james broughton • 185• Passionate Hearts OUR LOVE Our love is the fall languish days draw lazy and stinky, ripe fruit, leaf susurration prelude to fugue our shoulders healthy; our bellies our liquors merge slowly — we lie so shut our hearts beat angels.
It was once you my mouth remembered, the frequent musk of your intercourse, its soft warmth, its quickly fullness. My brain was once a reel flashing photographs inside of my cranium, and there has been no element lacking. I sat like a inebriated attempting to act sober. I chewed and swallowed whereas in my innovations I knelt; I gave thank you for you. anne okay. smith • 86• PA S S I O N AT E P L E A S U R E S in need of YOU using north out of city this present day via cornfields and newly plowed patches of earth the darkish wealthy soil i needed you, sought after you to press your self into me press me into the open box until eventually my curves turn into the contours of the floor underneath us.
He stands at the shore, additionally bare, deciding on blueberries. She calls. He turns. She opens her legs exhibiting him her nice good looks, and smiles, a bow of lips seeming to tie jointly the ends of the earth. Splashing her photograph to items, he wades out and stands ahead of her, sunk to the anklebones in leaf-mush and bottom-slime — the intimacy of the obvious international. He places a berry in its blouse of mist into her mouth. She swallows it. He places in one other. She swallows it. Over the lake swallows whim, juke, jink, and while one snatches an insect they either whirl up and exult.