Conch—

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    Conch—

    I discovered what was on
    the other side of
    the love packet when I turned
    it inside out.
    There is nothing more there
    than the inner lining of
    scattered bump lings bulging
    like clingy dumplings of flesh, and
    I realized that the best sensation
    was experienced outside-in
    when touching the ribbing
    pulsating at the tip,
    maw of the conch where its gelatinous
    gates open like the lips of a hungry
    mouth miming the welcoming O
    ©2009 j.a.o.a.

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    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

    jaoa’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Black Widow 0
    Time Clock 0
    Ensnaring— 0
    Bated Breath— 1
    Conch— 0
    Blushing Heels— 1
    No Matter How Pious 0
    Budding Fem-- 1