another storm

[joel]

With skin in sedimental mystery—
as if it’s granulated even when
it’s smooth— with something slick my fingertips
experience in moments when I drag
them slowly over the horizons of
your body’s pose: relaxed, asleep, erotic—
heart aroused; the rest of me is numb
and who I am is not the I who’d come,
who stands in snows’ escapes with thoughts robotic
in their calculations and with love
moronic in imagination: crag
and dune and white and white and white— it slips
away from me: your ecstasy, your zen,
your grace that’s whiter than this snow would be.

[dadio]

There are a handful of poets who mean anything to me and you are one of them, Joel. Classic poem.

[joel]

Well, mutual admiration society.

[Sue Littleton]

Delicately, beautifully erotic -- ♥♥♥