Monday, December 14, 2009

The Erotic Life

Sometimes, it’s nothing more than a foot in the snow, bare in its desire to feel.

From there, it’s the warm caress of spring air on a nearly thawed nipple and the feeling of forest duff on the knees.

Eroticism begets eroticism; feeling breeds feeling.

Everything excites the senses: bread dough, cool fish, firm sand, falling leaves, wet moss, mushrooms, morning coffee, vibrant flowers, muted hillsides, deep waters, the tongue of a cat, the music of verse, and the whispering comfort of her sleeping breath.


  1. ....and there is lust matched with lust, aggression admired, heat transferred, raw sexuality appreciated....I can still hear the icy tree limbs cracking in the east wind. I will forever be reminded, and never take for granted, how good it feels to fly.

  2. What a gorgeous love poem, BAK. So touching and lovely.

  3. Thanks, Neve! I didn't intend it to be a poem, but now that you mention it... :-)

  4. You ARE poetry, BAK, to the marrow. It cannot escape you.