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little death
by Betania TeschI am opening
one rotten petal
at a time
falling away
as you softly stroke
my stem.
You whisper possession
of my leaves,
enrapture my roots
with the moisture
of your kiss.
And yet, I rot
before I can expose this
stamen,
before I can allow your
fertilization.
I must die to be reborn
in the sweet ecstasy of
our combined nectar.
Give me my little deaths. 08/02/2003 Author's Note: la la does little death equal orgasm? you decide.
Posted on 08/02/2003
Copyright © 2024 Betania Tesch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Agnes Eva on 08/02/03 at 07:33 AM nice exploration and metaphor on nature's little secret heaven in our bodies. and what must happen first before we can get to heaven?... heheh, high five |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 12/17/03 at 09:13 PM dude. i pick stamen. ;) um, i'm with aiko on this one, most definitely. nice and deep heh heh heh. ;) |
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