John Martin

laughing through grad school
(academic stuff) (hints of life beyond
school and work)
(Flying Moose videos, photos, stories, etc.) (observations)

Her hips curve out

Her hips curve out like caramel
a smooth unbroken flowing
flowing down like velvet draping
to the floor.
The flatness of her belly bulges
slightly as I touch it, saying
sighing that it wants to
touch me back
And neck it stretches long to lure
my nose and lips pursue her ear
the scent of her engulfs my mind
and snares me.
Her eyes reflect uncertainty
but willingness to risk a comfort,
Hope, in fact, assurance
in a way.
And lips, they almost bite me, urging
on an invitation. “Touch me
more!” they hiss, but panic
drives me back.
I sense her then beside me, laying
out her inhibitions, like a drunk
in giving up a life of reason
for the thrill.
And who am I to promise that?
I fake a world to get here, to enjoy
the simple risings of her breast —
I live for that.

-john martin 1997