A Year of Hairless Yearning
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
If you could take your lover out just one
Time every year, how fresh would he seem each
Unveling from his box? Would beauty stun
You like the first man stunned fresh Eve, impeach
The full twelve months before for being flat?
Perhaps beholding body parts, strong hair
Displayed around them, tucked in this and that
Warm crevice, would you fall to holy prayer?
Or maybe muscles stretching out his skin
Would overwhelm you, hairiness or not.
Would you grasp why young Eve lunged into sin?
Would you demand to lick each hairy blot?
..Or would you want to kiss the dark pink head
….Between his thighs, and bearded lips’, lust’s red?
Unboxed