Olivia Chevron

To Erica (An Anagram)

The black straps down to your décolleté

feel sure, like my piano’s narrow notes.

If I left them to stroke your ivory skin

would you take charge and instead seduce me?

I’d let you stir my thoughts and coax

a gentle absinthe cloud and drink me in.

And from the corner of my copper eyes,

between honeyed words falling from your mouth,

I’ll watch the ink and pitch of what you’re wearing

ride up on each unbitten eggshell thigh,

and challenge “play me ‘til I flow and douse

a blaze to an ashen bed”, and staring

on my back I’d reach up to you, undressed,

and may taste wormwood, rising off your breast.

This poem was co-written with my Dear Friend, when I got 'stuck' with the original ...

Thank you, TH, for your help :-))!Authors comment

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Olivia Chevron.
Published on e-Stories.org on 05.01.2007.

Yr Co-writer (presently addled btw) finds it strange to see this again.

TigerFish18.01.2007

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