I couldn’t wear that
white dress you painted
tapering into the blue.

So I lay with
you naked.

The unbuttoning
of a politely curved lip
tips kisses
on my chest,
Stomache,
funnybone,
clavicle,

wishbone.


I stammer a preface
to your impatient hands,

impaled
by my prattle,
as a litany of tongues
imprisons my groans
and my ear sleeps
on a bed of your sighs.

Amanda Joy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wishbone-clavicle-kiss/