Thursday, September 18, 2014

You Can Score With Me...






Do you remember that night



The one where I spent hours discovering you



My eyes never leaving you



The tips of my fingers softly brushing against every inch of you



Each raised bit of worn flesh



Each bent hair looking to be shepherded or smoothed, reminded where it fit



Hours, weeks, months and years worth of time spread across your frame






The delight in finding deeply satisfying perfection on the ridges of your perceived imperfections



The sides of my tight jaw loosening with the lubricant that is your particular aromatic…



That blast of a memory that starts at the back of my throat and trickles slowly down the length of me



And back……



Do you remember?



I do….



I remember You






Will everyone get you?



Understand or appreciate your you-ness



Nope



They won’t



They won’t all see those sexy crinkled bits of truth and time as a spread open novel



They might give you a quick glance and deem your matchless shape, look, smell or feel difficult



Lacking in the possibility of giving pleasure…






If only they knew



I remember….



Simple doesn’t take or require as much…



Doesn’t give as much either



I welcome the less polished



The less finished….



The story to be read through my skin



My mouth



Our story



Felt and not calculated



You can’t score with me but I promise you, your tender and soft fingers on my heart, spreading my lips apart and holding my jaw still and quiet as you pour your, everything into me…






I will remember  

6 comments:

Romes said...

Dang... I need that...

Samantha Dugan said...

Jess,
I was visiting with a Champagne that falls into that crevasse between delicious and quirky, just the kind of wine that has inspired 100s of fucking blog posts about who's taste is better or more correct, just got me thinking about all the sexy scars, bumps, oddly shaped bellybuttons and crooked grins that I've spent time with. Things not perfect or shinny, pretty or grotesque....but interesting as hell and all bits of something, or someone, I thought enough about to explore. So I babbled this here...

Nice to see a kind name here waiting. xoxoxoxx

Dale Dimas said...

I want your...



...sensitivity. And ability to recall.


Thank you for this poetry.

Samantha Dugan said...

Dale,
No, thank you, for reading it.

Winey The Elder said...

Came across these words by Barry Lopez, Samantha, and they brought you to mind:

"...if she wishes to write well she will have to become someone. She will have to discover her beliefs, and then speak to us from within those beliefs. If her prose doesn't come out of her belief, whatever that proves to be, she will only be passing along information, of which we are in no great need." Can't think of anyone who speaks more clearly from her beliefs. And we are blessed.

Your pal,
WtE

Samantha Dugan said...

Winey My Pal,
Consider me immensely puddled. Thank you dear man, you made my day.