HE CALLS ME
BABY
IN THE PRIVACY
OF OUR ALONENESS
WHEN WE
SHUT THE DOOR
ON THE WORLD
LOCKING US IN
AND AWAY FROM
PRYING TONGUES
AND UN/UNDERSTANDING EYES
HE CALLS ME
BABY
IN A MANNER
THAT
DRAWS ME TO HIM
& LOCKS ME IN
THE WARMTH OF HIS
MIGHTY FOREARMS
& GRANITE BICEPS
AND
HE CALLS ME
BABY
WHEN
HE'S IN
THAT MOOD
WHEN NOTHING MORE
NEEDS
TO BE SAID
HE CALLS ME
BABY
LOW & GUTTURAL
MAKING IT SOUND
NASTY
& PORNOGRAPHIC
AND
MAKING ME LOVE
THE WAY
HE CALLS ME
BABY
By Ahmasi
3 comments:
That was nice.
Baby.
I like!
Thank you both. I love this poem.
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