Tag Archives: romance

She

Posted on May 18, 2018 by John Biscello

She, the wrinkled pool of lusty glaze and somatic charge, of aural bouquets teasing cherry-bled sound and fragrance from whetted lips, fasting to shape a comely beckon, moon-fed by dark.

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Outlet

Posted on May 15, 2018 by John Biscello

Kiss my shame, she said, the moistened outlet to my sealed-in history, run your tongue, but gentle now, gentle, over my heart-shaped booboo, make it sing, as if the moon, a secret maestro, was drawing the most beautiful notes from … Continue reading →

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Communion

Posted on May 14, 2018 by John Biscello

She knows who she is, the one who placed a piece of the moon under my tongue when I wasn’t looking, now, when I speak of night, light follows, to gild my bated communion.

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In Bated Response to Oxygen for A Sort of Love Song

Posted on May 13, 2018 by John Biscello

How wonderful it is to have your breath, seized and arrested, to have your barest bloom subjected to the solvency of cherish.

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Perigee

Posted on May 11, 2018 by John Biscello

It cannot be held in tongues, the veering arc of this perigee, ice-hot moon, rounded, throbbing to full, lightly crushing the sea’s glittering fount of lace.          

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I Do Not Say

Posted on May 6, 2018 by John Biscello

I do not say I love you, but I notice how your fingers twine and wrap around empty, tracing broken circles in the air when you are nervous. I do not say I love you, but there is a spot … Continue reading →

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Apples

Posted on April 11, 2018 by John Biscello

One turn of the hip, upsetting the apple cart– Eden after dark.

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Lovesong, the Remix

Posted on March 29, 2018 by John Biscello

It became a goal, soul-mate to my own damned self– Nerves on the first date.

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Savor

Posted on March 29, 2018 by John Biscello

It is that mouth, pursed, sentencing savor to burn, to kiss, between lines.

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Easter

Posted on March 28, 2018 by John Biscello

She, tender Sunday, wearing only beads of rain– her skin held the light.

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