The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 6/13/08

[BlueIris]

"Dried Fruit on Ben Yehuda Street"

If you held two large dried figs in your open palm
(thumb up, fingers in a relaxed curl),
you would certainly think of me. You'd hate
something familiar in the deeply-lined,
brown-tan mottled outer skin, thick,
pliable, unexpectedly soft. You'd bounce them
in one hand and with the other,
play with the woody stem and excite
the multitude of seeds inside.
Dates make me think of you, small,
slim, their brown uniform and aureole.
Figs are primitive and thick; you
can chew around their fringes,
but each half of a date is a nipple.
I suck them gently for the sweetness and
they feel firmer, giving their sugar.
After, whether figs or dates,
all the fingers are sticky
and slick.

—Leonard Orr

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. My dear BlueIris!

Mmmm...yummy, erotic, very yummy!

I'm loving the imagery in this one, a whole lot!

Thank you...

:9

:hug:

[BlueIris]

2. Yeah, I thought the imagery here was...stealthy.

But that's me.

[BlueIris]

3. Kick.