erotica – Elizabeth Oakley Weaver

If Not For Silence

IF NOT FOR SILENCE

In their mad Sufi dance words whirl off tongues

loose as hot snakes as we struggle to speak with rudiments—

mostly we quarrel, walk away, but sometimes manage

to weave them like a lovers’ embrace beneath that open-voweled moon,

which vacillates between the startled suck of air through pursed lips

and a night so long that, shy, she slips beyond the sun’s unerring watch.

Words electrify nerves till air feels like a panther lapping our luminous skin,

but it is silence that exposes our fiery hearts to serpentine tongues,

silence that would strip our marrow if not for the pulsing muteness

of flesh kneading flesh, of snakes and stars and moon-shackled seas.

Thank you to the editors of HOT FLASHES 2 for first publishing this poem.

Masks

MASKS OF CARDINAL FEATHERS

                                               Drape
                                                              Me in
                          Crimson rOse petals,
                                                              garnets, 
                                                                                   coraL,
                                              RuBies
                 and feed me
                                                dragon's Blood,
                                                                                     cherries,
                                                        straWberries,
                                 plums,
        salmon,
                        meRlot
                                          then make me
                                                                            glow,
                                                   flush,
                           blush,
                                                           BlooM
                                  till I'm
                                          Rubeous,
                             carneLian,
                                               verMilioN
        as ScarLet hummingbirds
                                                                SOAR from our
                                                                                                   Mad
                                               voRacious
                                                                          heartS.

Thank you to the editor of Absinthe Revival for first publishing this poem.

Drape
Me in
Crimson rOse petals,
garnets,
coral,
Rubies,
and feed me
dragon's Blood,
cherries,
straWberries,
plums,
salmon,
meRlot,
then make me
glow,
flush,
blush,
BlooM
till I'm
Rubeous,
carnLian,
verMilioN,
as ScarLet hummingbirds
SOAR from our
Mad
voRacious
heartS.

Thank you to the editor of Absinthe Revival for first publishing this poem.

Tag: erotica

If Not For Silence

Masks

Cardinal