Love Poem No. 5
When I fed you I set you three courses:
oysters from Whitstable, a carnival
of slime singed with lemon, edged
from ashtray shells and gulped;
a testicle of truffle, shaved
into a soft scramble of eggs and cream
and served on toast - crumbs knocked
from your chin by my thumb, each morsel
followed by a froth of champagne;
figs stuffed with mole, the bitter
chocolate squeezed from the fruit
as you bit the sweet flesh. Later
you laid me out as a feast, set
a candle in my navel and drew rings
of caviar around its flame. You wove
watercress stalks through my mound
of curled, smoky hair and set slices
of peach and mango across my chest.
You swallow me whole.
The previous version's close was the total dog. Cutting it left the poem without any close. So, I've written a new close. I am very unsure of the single line strophes, but I'll leave them in for now and hear what folks have to say when I workshop this little darling.
Akh!
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