“ Somewhere Tropical “
c.2000, Miriam M. Wynnhe meets her roughly in
a fragrant hallway,
the sun a witness peeking through banana leaves
flayed as her skin
by the petulant and insistent whip
of the warm, seeking wind,
a warm wind as persistent and
undeniable as his hands.they are large and the fingertips are rounded,
the fingers come pressing, sliding
pushing without preamble
so that her limbs, her possessed body
is pressed face front against
warm stucco.the tiles beneath her heels click, slide
slide, ankles straining and calves tense,
her cheek pressed hot while warm wind is busy
roughing aside her hair,
sliding into her mouth,
undoing all of her as it travels
up her long, light skirt
and between her awkward legs.his breath mingles drunk, and heavy,
smelling sweet as sunshine.
the setting, winking sun is sly as it moves
further behind the tall hibiscus;
the glossy leaves dip, sway,
ducking in shame and excitement;perfume and sultry air blow around her;
his hands are in her panties, tugging,
his hot chest large and rude,
pushing against her back ,
searing through near nothing clothing,
pulling at string and silk until she’s naked.a hot mouth at the nape of her neck
makes official her victimization;
his tongue runs hot and moist,
rough as rawhide, along her spine;
she begs the wall for mercy,
eyes closed, lips moaning in prayer.his voice is in her ear,
breathing out his spell,
his hands press, press, and slide,
until both legs are parted wide for him to enter;
until her arms are raised, elbows hinged on the gruff wall;
his hips pressing, banging against hers,
rough cloth pants scraping her exposed skin,
dark golden flesh against flesh
taut and ready;his chest becomes her back,
the open crotch of his pants yawning;
he is aflame and alive,
he conquers her with a strong, straight push and pull
to make a fit like flesh within her glove.on invasion she exhales only to gasp again,
he directs her, manipulates her,
the rhythm of his need is her command;his hands reach, grasp her breasts,
torture her rising hills with squeezes and rough caresses;
his palms sliding down ,
pressing down, down,
hard against her abdomen,
forcing her to take him higher, higher,
deeper than she has the will to go.but he has will for the both of them
and his desire is her own;
she wants to violate herself,
and violate the violator;his lust is a heartbeat that throbs within her own gut ,
his tongue at her ear the same hungry rod at her core,
his hands gripping her rear is the bruising grip of his
possession upon her soul.The wind blows salty and damp between them,
night is falling between their groans,
the tile beneath is cool and silent,
the wall stands brave beneath their war;this is how she wants to die,
this is all there is to life:the soul bursting, the world growing
so large within that it freezes and implodes without,
the smell of another wrapped around her,
the sheer force of embracing only to
be invaded and assimilated.filled with him she is the world;
burning with his entry she is alive;
bruised with all his knocking on her inner doors,
she has let the devil in only to drown
wrapped throbbing around his burning core.