4.
I find Love in the kitchen.
She is solid and wide.
Her face is a secret, her hair is the sea.
She enters a room and fills it.I want to drown. I want to know.
Plush and deep and rich, she opens
her arms, she opens her face. I sleep
with my hands on her breasts.I drown. When I reach for the surface
I swim and swim for shore. When I leave,
I leave honestly. I take everything. I learn
to live in the desert.
This is part of a series I’m working on.
Love is always in the kitchen! I like your description, especially the word plush.
I have liked all your love poems.
A home is where the love is, and the kitchen is where it start. Beautiful narrative!
This series is just getting more powerful and more moving as it continues. That final stanza will stay with me.
This is really interesting — I like the contrast between drowning and the desert. Nice job!
the beat goes on.. i must admit i liked the more angry love better… but this one is nice too…
“I learn to live in the desert” – Wonderful!
What a great series. Love your site. I will most definitely return your writing is outstanding.
I drown. When I reach for the surface
I swim and swim for shore. When I leave,
I leave honestly. I take everything.
i love these lines for their brutal honesty.
I like your series of love poems. They are rich and engaging. The refrain of ‘leaving’ is interesting, as is love changing gender in #4. I look forward to reading more of the series, if it continues.
I’m enjoying your love series. The words are honest and clear with freedom hidden within. Very nice.
I just went back and read the first three. I love the rhythm of this conversation between two people about love. It has a lovely, rocking motion to it. Hope to see more in this series. Annie
This has been such a great series. Love this!
Wonderful and sensuous poems. Looking forward to more of this.
i just read the entire series of Loves. beautiful. like paisley, i especially like the angry Love slamming the door and the image of someone picking up broken pieces of glass. i guess i just find sorrow as equally beautiful, if not more, as the joys of Love. looking forward to reading more!
Beautiful. I love the thoroughly muted sense of danger and the way that the richness of the images is filtered through the stoicism of the narrator. Wonderful.
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