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Thank You I put your flowers on the windowsill. The kitten caress of a pussywillow Reminds me of the way you breathe Honey dewdrop sentiments Into the private hollow of my ear When we hug. With impossible sincerity, you whisper The shocking sweet burst of juicy center In a gimmick chewing gum And I have to believe all the slogans: They echo in your eyes. You do not give sunshine to my day-- Hydrogen fusion takes care of that-- But you make it yellower Somehow. Flowers have the same number of petals, With or without you, But I can hear their conversations When you've told me something kind. Quarks retain their mystery, But they attain a certain majesty When we turn our minds Together To the same questions. And I'd be just as pretty, Just as strong, Just as bitchy, witty, brilliant, sexy, and impossible If you went away, But I'd smile less. 2:40 pm, 2/5/99 Copyright 1999 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Pretty Little Princess I feel five When everything I said Was precious, Precocious, perspicacious... I want to show you my room and my toys And my artwork on the fridge. If I stop to think, I wonder at the newness And the oldness of this: When every secret endears me further, When I can laugh without covering my mouth, When I can open all the Matryoska dolls And show you the smallest one. 12:32 pm, 11/25/98 Copyright 1998 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
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Elocution You're talking, and with a voice so gentle it commands my senses, your words climb my back, brush softly at my neck, my breasts. Your lips keep a chaste distance, while your breath carries bites and kisses to my collar bone, and your tongue meditates on my earlobe. You're talking with words thrust into me so deep, touching my muse by way of my clit, that I am drawn up into a Klein bottle, where, finally, both of us can be inside. And still with a hands-off monologue, you feed me morsels of chocolate-drenched dreams, strawberry inspirations, until my back arches with the thrill Of the Possible. and then, relenting, you talk to me in snowflakes, sweetly, ushering me back to my body with a sigh of Q.E.D. 2:07 pm, 12/4/98 Copyright 1998 by Sharon J. Cichelli |
