Tomatoes – July 18, 2011

Posted: July 19, 2011 in Samples of My Writing, Writing Posts

For the middle of summer here is an erotic poem from my book Nothing Vanishes published in 1996 by Wolsak and Wynn. And published again in Wrapped Within Again (winner of the Stephan G. Stephansson Award)  in 2003 by Black Moss Press.

Here is a link to the kindle version of my book, Higher Ground.


You sent me out for tomatoes
and at a stoplight
I picked a tomato from the bag.
I wanted to bite
into the tomato
but didn’t, thinking
of your hand running
down my back, your tongue
moving between my legs.
It was at sunset and the sky
listened to my breathing,
a few pink clouds
soothing on the horizon.

At the door you didn’t take
the tomatoes but took
my lips instead,
covering them with your own,
your tongue filling
every place in my mouth.
We followed the remaining lights upstairs.
Our footsteps were
without echoes.

I had learned how to slow
my fingers down, how
your breathing carries guidance.
Over me you were slow and
certain, filling me
with a gracefulness
old bones master reluctantly.
The room, the city, the world
didn’t hear us as
your hands followed my thoughts.
Your body lead my hands
as they lifted
your thighs toward my mouth.
I sang into you
uttering something from the back
of my throat.
We didn’t stop, just slowed down.
My hands washed you down
with your sweat.

In the morning I open a window
taking a fresh breath
of cold winter air
cooling what still smoulders.

I find the bag of tomatoes
at the front door, hidden
partially by the morning shadows,
sitting so quiet like a promise.
I leave them there and wait
for you to discover them,
to lift one to your mouth,
your fingers slowly
covered with juice.


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