satisfaction?

[ASHERA]

wordplay
my only
foreplay

[ASHERA]

That really wasn't much of a poem now, was it? Slap the triteness off my wrists, locked to the past as they are....... let's try again

words gravid
hold me hostage
a hard caesura
signaling an endless
episiotomy
of all my desire

even marble
relents under
the sculptor's hand
grows warm
pulsing veins

i fear the long
transit back
the sorting of
granite shrapnel points
nailing my emptiness
to the air