SHUTTERED DESIRE
Look
harder into the darkened corridor
after
the shutters have gone down,
ignore
the clipped clatter of slats slapped
shut
with peremptory indifference;
blurred
shadows should start jumping
through
them as lingering sunrays
slither
like paper-thin serpents flapping
languidly
with the stale air. I am there.
How
else will my lost carrion incarnate
except
through the quiver of hungry loins
trembling
achingly through cold nights
when
your frenzied fight with the pillows
and
caressing flannel become urgent noise
echoing
unsatedly needy behind shutters.
---
Albert B. Casuga
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