Loved this poem by a young poetess named Bijou
Did a tongue run over lips eclipse
the bank of a dry stream like a fish on flips
and flopping like dinner, lunch.
You found my center and sunk your teeth in, crunch.
So my bones gave up the ghost to your lips, a gift.
A rift in time, so juicy like limes,
belly like a petal wilting, ticking like time.
Your voice like a gong, taste the sound of divine –
O lover where are we and must we still climb?
Will I rest, hashtag #blessed? I’ll eat your stress until I’m choking,
Til tears flood my eyes and it’s your body I am smoking,
Takes me high like a kind bud, like a junkie with open hands,
needing love but taking money, you supply and I demand.
In a chemical haze I do dream of the bees sipping clover,
Do they tremble and buzz with bliss when it’s…
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I decided to look up bijou. And it said “something small, delicate and exquisitely wrought”. And that’s what this jewel of a poem is.
This was a really nice almost rap style, “sing song” patterned ballad. Nice share, Jan! 😊