AMBERLEE CARTER
Photography ©2004 KERRI

coloring a language
oh to be the pillow that parts
the strong folds of love's thighs-
i've filled my leather bound book
with declarations of devotion,
to you
a few to God-

almighty co-dependencies
of truth and sacrifice,
my dream
to sleep inside the rain,
beside the storm of passion
that smolders sensation and brews strong drink-

morning cup of heart
sipped through the slit in my lips,
the lips that otherwise only separate
for you
your thistled language-

i've learned to pronounce
each vowel and consonant
in the punch drunk color
my lazy tongue suffers-
and
stays limp 12 hours of the day-
but at night comes alive
coils- lovely
around the edges of your sighs-
to wash you
to clean you
free of the world's wind
paints it's demands
upon your treasure chest
and precious shoulders-
where the unevenness of
me
comes to rest.

and while you tangle your fingers
in my hair
you seem somewhat unaware-
i have roots
embedded in your palm.

the dent in his chest
I want to get you naked
&
see the outlines of your ribs,
your imperfections,
every last one
that make you feel insignificant-
all your flaws
&
blemishes,
all your discolorations
&
blotches,

I want to do this blind folded
in our bedroom after-hours,
after the sun leaves us cold ,
fending for ourselves to find warmth
like scavengers on the last day the world would turn-

I want to get you naked
&
see the curves
&
canyons of your soul,
&
lick the scar that you bear
from whence I was born.