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forbidden love
my hopeless hunger
for your touch
more secret than
a geisha’s blush
lean back on my arm
let your honey hair cascade
over the edge . . .
for that one naked moment
when neither of us can smile
come close, young woman,
I’ll tell you about onions:
they are the last sum
of all their layers, oldest
and youngest . . . yes, come closer
late night T’aichung
lanterns sparkle in the lake
on a crimson bridge
my eyes full of beauty
my shoes full of blood
hours before dawn
drinking vodka on the porch
while others sleep
I turn off the light
and give the moth a break
Poetry Copyright © 2006 by Denis M. Garrison.
