A new poem by Loretta Riach.

COLD EROTICA

Kiss me, Hardy,
in the dark-robed blindness of passion,
both of us pressed up against the parapets
of your one bedroom apartment,
a chill against the sliding door.
Kiss me, stranger–
harder than that!
Give it to me like a sail full of wind,
a clear sky and gulls swooping in the rigging,
until I cry out–
land ho!

It’s easy to be full of lust,
especially when thrown into the depths of
a winter, one hell-bent on
flinging sparrows resolutely
into your frozen windows.
Every wing-beat is a new lover to imagine
cold-chested, more naked
with socks on
due to the ineffectual nylon carpet.
Kiss me not just for warmth
but out of curiosity–
who goes there?

Swing your lantern-light
across me, traveller,
bear witness to me
pale-assed in the moonlight
like an upscale ski chateau partially
buried in a snowdrift–
come closer, kiss me darkly,
leave your boots at the door.

The Friday Poem is edited by Hera Lindsay Bird. Submissions are currently closed.