He came to me rank with visions
of her and her and her dripping
loose blind
eyes fingers mouth
roots of these eyes
torn balls
left to flounder.
His kisses spoke in foreign tongues drunk
from their secret sites
left wet unctuous messages
trapped in the hollow
of my tongue choked
behind teeth.
His pounding strokes brimmed this bed with the slap
and slop of sweat semen
saliva.
He may drown me yet
in some other.
I cannot spit them out.
Sandie Walker (Western Australia)
An independent poetry journal. Watch your step.
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