Conch—

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  • Passion

    Conch—

    I discovered what was on
    the other side of
    the love packet when I turned
    it inside out.
    There is nothing more there
    than the inner lining of
    scattered bump lings bulging
    like clingy dumplings of flesh, and
    I realized that the best sensation
    was experienced outside-in
    when touching the ribbing
    pulsating at the tip,
    maw of the conch where its gelatinous
    gates open like the lips of a hungry
    mouth miming the welcoming O
    ©2009 j.a.o.a.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    jaoa’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Black Widow 0
    Time Clock 0
    Ensnaring— 0
    Bated Breath— 1
    Conch— 0
    Blushing Heels— 1
    No Matter How Pious 0
    Budding Fem-- 1