Game of Words and Flesh

You are counting my gasps with your lips. I can’t see you, but my skin (and deeper things) can feel every breath your want is tracing over my breast and ribs and hip. “Am I getting warmer?” you say. And your words arch my back because warm burst into flames a mouthful of well-versed licks ago.

I’ve hidden kisses
between my poems and flesh.
Want them? Come… and seek.


the wee notes…
– over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, our dearest Rommy asked us “to write a poem that incorporates the idea of a child’s game.” So, I chose to poetize some Hide and Seek.
– I rarely use capitalization in my senryū/haiku, but it felt right for this one.

Sea of Feelings”, by Leonid Afremov

She Bites

hey, Georgia,
did you paint this bloom?
it munched me!

I think good old Stetson has been sprouting flowery corpses in his garden again, perhaps to continue arguing Eliot’s bit about April been the cruellest. Well, I hope your April is perfect… that it only bites if you are into that. 😉

I shall link this silly bit to Poets United. Because April likes senryū. Really, she told me.