(concupiscence)

Jean, ca. 1972

How can it be, Sweet, I’ve

Not yet told you how I loved 

Your body? In all I’ve writ

Have I never mentioned your

Smooth, unblemished skin, 

Pink as a baby’s bum,

Spotted with freckles, 

Translucent white with age?

Did I forget the glory of

Your cheek, so soft against

Mine wiry with neglect,

Yours lined with frequent

Smiles and tears? I can’t 

Have overlooked your lips, 

Chanced never to say how 

Their hungry sweetness

Consumed all my weary

Distractions, placed me alone

With you every time? How 

Great a fool, to see you and 

Not always be in praise?

c. J.S.Manista, 2016