Frustrations Of A Thought (picturing the younger man)

Picture:

A young thought permeating my very

membrane, a lemon Joy amongst

generics, aromatic and pungent in my kitchen…

I feel like home economics

and gymnasium formations

in high school again.

Spices…  I dream spices

ginger, cardamom, bay leaf, saffron…

From paella to the curry

spices call my name…

Cayenne & nutmeg; Oh the tang

of back-alley fixations, my fascination

with India’s vivid exaggerations of

unkempt masturbations, explanations of

animated penetrations and other lust-love

pleasures - I want him:

Mr. Kama Sutra.

His goods, his wares;

uncut sheath a blade silky-smoothe

like machetes:  sharp is his wit.

Sweet is his sex:

alabastered drops of  young rain

silhouetting, accentuating

the contours of my supple jawline - just

aphorisms of unconditional love

and innocence, purity and naïve;

dirt pies of youth he exudes -

his skin smooth as his wit,

his game, his gaze…  his nether regions

and I wanna play…

Though when that child calls, “I

want you?  Yes, I want you.  And

you will be mine…”  I wake up…

Copyright © 2005 Jacquii Cooke