Blow back,

a sliver of space between us

as you push the ghost,

the whispered phantom

between my teeth

and I chew down upon its non-corporeal ridges

and mull over the deep intensity to come.

Blow back,

I see your eyes my love,

I see your eyes, blazing fury,

“You bring out the best in me you know”,

you tell me, erotically spilling secrets

that you kept hidden from the darkness;

now over tinsel toned music, the waft

of a Tori Amos song, you divulge them,

those sweet words parting

from a mouth that had swigged down

a couple of unmeasured shots of

ten day old whisky and freshly purchased smoke.

Blow back,

peeling back

the shirt off my back, the scars

dancing under the your fingers,

delicate

you kissed my neck

and blew down my ear,

Blow back,

you put the expertly made paper and green

folded and licked like two exploring tongues,

BLOW back,

back in your mouth,

your teeth, not unappealing

but you were always jealous of mine,

biting down on the inhale

and you drew your breathe

into me, pushing harder,

faster, do you want to ride yet…

your feminine eyes, hint of mascara blues

touched down and stayed closed

as you touched

my hand, held it for a while,

all the time making love to yourself;

blow back girl, blow back into my mouth,

I want to see how you see me,

I want to see you through the cloud of smoke,

dense fog and sculptured illusion,

blow back

push the dream into me

and let me chalk your image

in my mind,

you find my lips

and blow back.

 

Ian D. Hall 2017