Poem of the Week 1/31/2017
Claudia Serea
You won’t know this love
You won’t know this love
until you’ll know each mole,
each constellation
on her skin,
until you’ll recognize her skin scent
and crave it at night.
You’ll feel the need to touch,
to carry
your little monkey
on your back.
The urge of milk,
eyes closed.
You won’t know this love
until you’ll feel your rib
missing her rib,
the ocean of your blood
seeking her ship.
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