thank you for these love poems
please let's change the title in "naughty bits"
here is my poem that links to your idea of love reaching its object through
the eyes.
“In this our dawn"
the chair creaked
at an anonymous though.
I see the scarlet mark
on your wrist.
in this our
dawn
I am pregnant
in my womb I am carrying
your seed. heavy yoke.
to respond to a pattern
or to comply with the immodest demands
of the body.
all the stories in our godless hearts
are attempts where the hand has failed. it passes
in a flash of lightning. it is the eye of the cyclone.
to submit, like this, to your will,
to open to a monologue.
I had only this slender rope.
language breaks.
the window-pane shivers and you
sit, self-possessed.
this cold thought bears my name.
it is the butterfly ravished
by your glance.
Erminia Passannanti (Macchina, Manni, 2000)
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