In The Center of the World of the Body Tasted

63

You fall from your body, in spring –
.
.
Like a shadow of unmoving patience
With virtues to name, your furthest points
the overflowing or natural erosion
The breaking point where flesh enters
Another state – stirring instincts of a million years
.
.
Your body aches, for a firebrand tongue of coolness
The firmament of male and female, ecstasy
The earth tremor of your buttock of green
A testimony of your solar jaguar eyelashes
.
.
Stroked not enough by time
Your orange cleft of midnight lunging
Transfigured by his spiral hands, encircling
Your caressed scents of lengthy slow longing
.
.
You fall from your body, it’s dusk
.
.
Fluttering like an unfinished melody
Between April & May, waiting and lasting
As a feast of unfolding horizons rushing
Towards music, festivity, orgasms of the house of wind
.
.
It’s not over, it’s just the black lips of the O r a c l e ‘ s beginning
Your juices are not overflowing, they are just incarnated in dream
Dissolving your senses like the buds of the lucid mouths of truth.

3 thoughts on “In The Center of the World of the Body Tasted

  1. Wuji, I love the erotic, mystical flavour of this poem. “Orgasms of the house of wind”. Wow! Thanks so much for visiting my blog. I’m excited to follow you and honor your work. Have a beautiful day. Michele

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