Sealed Section

Paris, I’m making love to you.
Timid at first; the fresh maiden
with watchful eyes
But now I’m entering your private places,
Exploring every corner,
Embracing every curve


I’m breathing in your muskiness,
Pressing against the cracks in your walls,
tracing wrinkles
And combing through
the terracotta highlights in your hair

I go down on your left bank
and return slowly on your right
Lingering at your curves of bridges,
Overflowing with your river

I drift through your alleys,
Unwrap your lanes
I drown in you
and I love that it takes hours
to find my way to the surface again

I’m licking your ice cream

and trying to get my tongue around your tongue,

but I stumble.

You whisper ‘It’s O.K.’

Your river edges lapping

and you give me pleasure anyway


So deliciously delirious
Blind to
your other lovers
Your tobacco-stained teeth
Your piss-soaked pockets

I am but a dot

And yet you stand proud before me

For this moment you are mine

And I take you, fully


Sometimes I move beneath you

Secret tunnels pulsing

Day and night

And you take me to places I’ve never been


Radiant pink at first light,

I wake, pressed against you

and have you before my croissants and coffee

And have you after my croissants and coffee


My day is squandered on you.
And I linger a while at nightfall.
Then, slumberous and drowsy,
Your river washes over me
And I soak up the pleasure of you