Wednesday, June 16, 2010

POETRY: First Taste

Starting this week, each Friday will be Poetry Fridays at My Feet Only Walk Forward. A big thank you to my friend and fellow poet Christy NaMee Ericksen that inspired me with her poetry Thursdays.

Until this Friday, though, here is a poem I wrote during one of my visits to NYC some time ago.

First Taste

The first taste of him
His tongue slid sweetly
Bold flavors washed over my lips
I drank him
Tasting reflections of myself
pressed against him
I lost myself in his bouquet
He seemed familiar
As he laid his head against my neck
Rose to meet me
Drank me
I moaned
On the couch
In mid-sentence
He poured himself across my body
Strong his flavor
Mixed with mine
I rose up to meet him
Wrapped myself around him
We moaned
Our tongues danced
Sharing a common language
De donde son tus sabores
Estas uvas tenemos en común

The skin of this grape was lighter than mine
But it was familiar
Across the Rhine
I found him
the muscles of his back intoxicated me
firm skin
fermented to ripe perfection
I drank him deeply
He moaned
We paused for a moment
Tongues soft inside of each other
Slowly we explored the subtle hues beneath them
Smoky, layered, I sipped him reverently
Tossed him against the back of my throat
Eased him forward
Exploring his complexity
mango con arepa y coco con ron
Caribbean sunsets below the N train
A hurucán of near intoxication on Ditmars Boulevard
His bare chest a revelation of vines thick, refined
Drinking him
I was a sommelier
This one best served slowly at room temperature
Respected for its intensity
His legs perfectly balanced
On mine
I pulled him closer
Almost impossibly
Such a rare vintage
in Queens
by the church
as the saints watched us take communion
he kissed me goodnight.

-Brandon Lacy Campos
-New York, NY


  1. This is probably the nicest way to tell somebody they should take a bath.


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