The night is moonless
moaning with a thirst of shadows
bruised by hunger of your warm thighs
a promise of venom burning on my skin.
I know the coordinates of our town
is coded and commanded to missiles waiting
with fingers fumbling to destroy
as their eyes excavate our life below.
Yet — tonight
there’s nothing but hibiscus bloom
bursting sparrows in your speech,
as your feline finger tremble
you touch me with the point of your breast.
I’m not a coward
but waiting for an unknown fingertip
a stranger stalking
this shadow of torrential rain
to release destruction
before the spring is back
before we had more time to love
drives me crazy.
Today Grace presents Carilda Olivar Labra at Real Toads and I was particularly impressed of the love juxtaposed with politics especially in Declaration of Love written during the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1963, and this took me back to the cold war when the threat of missiles seemingly hanging over the world. With the current events going on in the world I fear for a return of this and even worse. I intend to link this to Poetry Pantry as well tomorrow.
February 7, 2015