Old Poem

Come on, come on, close!
Won’t these lift doors ever close?
You breathe into my mouth
my fingers invade your finery
I was hypnotised across the table
by the explicit silk of your bare shoulders
Now hot air slathers at my forearms
as our legs entangle their thick reef-knot
Behind this crashing waterfall
no one can hear us moan
as you’re bitten for the thrill of it

And in this lift, we write together
the oldest poem, it’s the oldest poem
a poem as old as time

You don’t know this but you’ve re-lit
the fuse of life in me
I’ve been feeling dead for months
in some subtle crushing ways
I’d lost my grip upon the rip chord
of that passionate parachute
Now, I’m risen and roused
heart beating in my lower lip
as it crushes itself to yours
My slight of hand restored
your clasp magically unlatching
All hell is breaking loose
as I soar across your skin

Come on, come on, close!
Doors; gift us some privacy
Lost in the moment, penning together
the oldest poem, it’s the oldest poem
a poem as old as time

And I’ve
never felt so alive…

[2020]

Thanks for reading.

All my poems.

8 thoughts on “Old Poem”

    1. Thanks for reading (as always!). I feel like I’ve written a million of these kind of poems now so I called my original draft of this one ‘Same Old Poem’ and nearly deleted it… Then the lines which you have picked out came to me afterwards and I thought, actually, I can work that into the poem and make it something slightly more worthwhile.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Ah thanks for reading and commenting. I like that you picked out that line, I love a celebration of of hypnotic quality of shoulders and don’t see them appreciated enough in writing. Really pleased you enjoyed. 🙏🏼

      Liked by 1 person

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