Thursday, March 19, 2009

In Arms Still Warm




I dreamt your flesh
draped across mine, cell to cell,
Like grass on the undulating earth.
Tiny blades of lust
crept along the carpet
tickling the forgotten into wakefulness
and I could hear my own moaning;
a hunger as plaintive as an African infant’s plight,
deprived of sustenance for far too long,
shrinking and shriveling, starving and wasting.
But I dreamt your hands entering into my skin
removing the dark aloneness.
I awoke with a start
lying in arms
still warm.

2 Comments:

Blogger Beatrice V said...

..your hands entering into my skin
removing the dark aloneness... this is fabulous Pamela, poignant and beautiful.

March 20, 2009 at 1:55 AM  
Blogger S. said...

Pamela,

I know this dark aloneness as my own. But rarely am I able to define it, nor have I ever been able to do so as completely as you have.

Just beautiful...

May 26, 2009 at 2:24 PM  

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