Graffito

Three distinct letters,

discrete as whispers
yet stark as sunrise,
stain this park’s
concrete wall.

S insinuates
the dark entrance,
secret from those
passwordless,
but once in, one
snakes along this
sinuous passage

toward E,
which sighs
like a wind-filled
cavern
in the fold of a word
so bare
it exposes the language of pores
opening like stomata
along nerve-laden skin,
of tongues probing
tasting moistening unveiling
revealing the voracious
pulse and press of pelvis
belly
even neck, bared
for the thin membrane of skin,
primordial as sound rising
from ancestral marrow
formed of molten rock and sky-filled sea

before X marks the space
within and between.

Thanks to the editors of  HOT FLASHES: sexy little stories and poems for first publishing this poem.

Hot Flashes

Left Coast Writers