8/31/10

When I Touch Your Cheek
By John Ogden


Your eyes, to me,
are like the shining mirrors of heavensent angels,
They call me, pull me in, devour me.
Your lips slide across mine with a wet touch,
Erotic, unstoppable, stirring
Until my whole being is electric fire,
Until I am alive,
With you, above you, within you
And when I touch your cheek,
Fall into your arms, your being,
I see the colors of fate and need,
I see the shapes of the mind,
The elegant curves
Of life in your belly
Of things yet to come.


- - -
John Ogden was conceived of a government form and a passing mailbox. He lives somewhere out in the woods of a rural land more akin to the fantasy realms of literature than real life, and his favorite dirt bikes will always be the broken ones.