An erotic poem by Ramón Neto, member of the Brussels Poetry Collective
Word of Mouth
In the beginning was your Mouth
a nest of short-circuits
that ploughed my body undoing all its zips.
You let me insert the fingers in the holy black-out
and I believed.
I could then see the light
at the end of the tunnel,
at the opposite end of time
from where I’m now licking.
In this enclosed atmosphere the brain
is the first sexual organ to get
undressed — so carve a body for it
drumming on my armour with your fingertips,
stirring with your tongue its dead-ends.
Carve me a body — a no-man’s-land out
of intensive shelling, a field of craters
sucking your nipples, a hungry trench
dug for the final crash landing.
Here and now I dwell in your eternity
where hourglasses are no longer
objects of cult but mere harmless, enjoyable teasing-toys
like this very poem
melting in your mouth.
© Ramón Neto, Brussels, 2015