Breath

By Bud Koenemund

For K.

My hand was made to fit around your throat,

Enjoying the warmth of caramel skin,

Denying breath as my tongue darts and floats

Over flesh, blissfully drinking you in.

I squeeze, while you gasp, clutching at my wrist;

Mind struggling ‘gainst body’s desire,

A loss of control neither can resist –

Surrendering to burn in this fire;

The passion raging ‘til la petite mort

Erupts with a maelstrom of ecstasy;

Our pleasure and pain thunder as we court

That death before collapsing breathlessly.

   Domination and submission feed lust,

   But love matures in these displays of trust.

A Better Sonnet for Christina Alvarado

By Bud Koenemund

There are dangers every poet knows:

The Lake of Goo, and mindfields filled with words

Defective; emotion twisting their prose,

Or adherence to a form which can blur

Function – risking misinterpretation.

Still they muddle, matching rhythm and rhyme

In little songs to show admiration;

Praise courting immortality while time

Demands submission. Although memory

Will fade away, these verses shall endure

Forever – love sans ambiguity;

Bestowed with reverence and intent pure.

   Absent voice, I pen my exaltation:

   To Venus, and Muse, in celebration.