It's still National Poetry Month! Today we transgress the "National" by including a Canadian; this is by Sonnet L'Abbé.
The vocabulary of desire is incomplete, a word is missing. My tongue searches for your body in language and finds you in every word. I thought this was a small thing, a stone in the palm I could offer you, my body in darkness a simple gift casual as a pebble. As if touching were easier than speaking, as if this poem did not prove you inside me already, as if asking meant I still had the power to invite. But you make me aware of breathing, of the awesome fact that each particle of air has been taken at least once into every lung. Suddenly I have no boundaries and to kiss you seems to drink up the sky, slip it from my tongue into your mouth. Our bodies just our hearts' clothing, and I came to you so shabbily dressed. Maybe I thought that for one night I could wear your beauty through closeness and for a few hours believe myself splendidly arrayed. But you know all the lyrics to rejection. My body, your exquisite voice's shattered glass.
And here's another one: Theory My Natural Brown Ass.
