Susan Rich
DAPHNE SWEARS OFF IT
She wants to answer yes no more—
no more nuzzling of the earlobes,
tussle of breasts, slow rolling acts of the tongue.
Instead she takes another
glass of lemon water, watches
jasmine flowers unfurl into flying stars—
raspberries ripen, their cells exploding.
Though he licks each finger, sweetly
massages her hips, her inner wrists,
whistles while he works
the underwear down the backs of her knees—
she prefers the touch of sea grass—
honeysuckle and the scented
scrub rose of midsummer’s eve.
What is one man compared to an ocean?
Broad shoulders to the shoreline’s blue cry?
She wants to tell him
that last night soaring just under
a creamy edge of quarter moon
she tasted desire, left it cool.
But instead she rubs his forehead
licks it tentatively, if only
you were sea salt, if only
an apricot tree.
–from Rattle #27, Summer 2007
September 3rd, 2009 at 11:14 pm
Hey ~ Thanks for bringing back “Daphne Swears Off It” which will be published in THE ALCHEMIST’S KITCHEN from White Pine Press this April. It’s a favorite – fun to stumble across tonight.
September 4th, 2009 at 1:42 am
Congrats on the new book, Susan! Still love this poem, I’ll look forward to the collection.