Saturday, September 18, 2004

The Curve
Sarah Medinger

Man comes in mostly lines
and angles.
But there's a curve I know,
a certain curve
where hip meets thigh,
that only curves
so much on man.
A curve deserving
a thousand tiny kisses
for every nerve.
this curve, this concave
curve of skin-hotter
than stomach, closer
than knees.
A shallow sunken
finger-walkable road,
this unnamed curve,
this slight and manly
gentle curve.
a most intimate curve,
a shadow place for me to lie.
This curve forgets
all other angles.


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