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
Heady
His tongue slid sweetly
Searching
Urgent
Bold flavors washed over my lips
I drank him
Deeply
Tasting reflections of myself
Nutty
woody
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
Heavy
Thick
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
Alone
Respected for its intensity
His legs perfectly balanced
On mine
I pulled him closer
Almost impossibly
Such a rare vintage
Singular
in Queens
by the church
as the saints watched us take communion
he kissed me goodnight.

-Brandon Lacy Campos
-New York, NY