tongue magic

my tongue once tense relaxes

prodding a voice grown resonant

when seeking to impress you

standing there hiding

from my nuance from those hints

of what might be for you and me

a new way of singing

reveal yourself your will your

firm resolve not tempted beyond

but pulled from within

go ahead and hide yourself

those firm breasts those

long legs those changeable

strange eyes

those deeply thought sighs

save it, turn away, i do not

care any more my wooden voice

speaks perfect platitudes of logic

aloof alone independent calm

even though

if your no became oh...yes

we could discover

what our tongues do best.

-- douglas brent smith


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From Each Hand Until The End

  From Each Hand Until The End -- collage by douglas brent smith, 1988