The Wind
The Limbs
for T.L.C.

her poetry relaxes
opens legs

trustingly, trusting me
to be rough or gentle

I can suspend lines
can drape them
over my shoulders

like legs, like suspenders
to wear a while

for a while, besides them
she nor I attired
in anything more than
her moans and mine

“fuck me!” maybe
or some such expletive

or is that the next storey
another story

for now,
she relaxes her verse thighs

muscles once, not long ago
so full of tension
her attitude, one of resistance

acceptance fills her heart,
her body now

up to me to show
how gentle I can be

can fuck or kiss her pussy open

her legs apart for me to love her


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
8:35 a.m. 26.04.08