so hard that I kneeled in the alley
in love--
big bay windows
where people were eating
couldn't see they were only a meter away
from my eating
and falling deep
into the windows
into the reflection
of self, or my own deconstruction
my own humiliation;
I would do anything for him
--to show him how much
I'll crawl any reflection
into any window
any infinity
him. him. him.
reflected like mirrors in a changing room
when there's bright light
now, dark, night, after wine
and dinner, he bought, I promise
it was dark so I didn't worry
didn't worry, no, in the dark
while sucking on it--
so close to where they
looked out the bay windows
while spooning pasta with a fork--
he was speaking
but what he was saying?
yes? miss? love? marry?
My Last Name: Hor
with shapely plums
that ripen when touched
I'm long like a model
with smooth porcelain
and hot yellow tea
the one they call
teh tarik in bahasa:
a stretched tea.
I'm long like a model
like stretched tea
but you won't take me
You complain
my teeth are crazy
my thighs too big
it's like mounting a yak
you say,
a yak
I'm long like a model
which means I can take you
all long like a porn star
I'm long like a model
yet you keep calling me
the same thing --
an ugly Hor --
and forcing me down on my knees.
Emme's Blog
these are such great poems by emme hor.
ReplyDeleteDude, whatever happened to her? I've been to her blog a few times but haven't seen anything recent.
ReplyDeleteGood one! I want more erotic poem. Hope you are busy writing erotic poem and story.
ReplyDeleteJust pure erotic and erratic. More is preferred.
ReplyDelete