Suckerpunch Bliss

for one Haley Trotter
a poem from march 2008

Between the suckerpunch of the hangover
and the dizzy bliss of the bottle’s kiss…

What did I feel?
What should I feel, now?
I squint and think.
careful and a little distant.
like i imagine you.
as I imagine you.

Did we just… imagine?
All these recallable feelings, words and … lips
We just … dreamed?
all verbs and air and deep breath
when you were there under my lips
and my hips

How much pillowtalk was in your eyes
slightly frightened,
but hungry
big and deep and staring
your eyes
that next day
in your kitchen
while you cleaned

Did we say that?
Did we really say those things
easing softly into your sheets…
did I really recoil?
… or catch you
in my mouth?
… take you
in my mouth?

An answer
was in your eyes
big and deep and staring-
was in that

I chase my ease into you.
I chase your ease away from you.
You will run from me in the days to come.
As I am drawn to you.
But was it my hesitation,
that started this … flight
or yours

In this big and deep and staring
And the open eyes kiss
of the morning

We are weak.

But then…
We were Decadent, Illicit and Strong.
OP money, Vodka and all their mute eyes watching. Us.
They programmed to worry; Us to softly torment.
My black english velvet; Your white egyptian cotton.

we were looking good.
very good.

I was on form,
with my posse
my body firm and lithe from hard physical work
sad of spirit with the brutal indignity of it
light in my black humour
— I am the sad decadent rich boy.

On form, like you.
with your posse
your lithe socialite limbs
supple yet full of tension from sliding behind your eyes and words
light with your black humour,
— You play the decadent rich girl.

me with my depression,
that I wear like a badge;
you and your anxiety,
and your hidden crooked spine

We are looking good.
very good.
and tonight we are feeling even better
(like we don’t alone)
because we are the very image of sex
young and adult
while they are
merely one or the other
merely looking on

we know this.
our stature.
and this knowledge is our aphrodisiac.

We don’t need to say much
to confirm our self-satisfaction
or even touch
just casually
and we feel
and we know
how we look
to each other
and them

We laugh easily
and drink the night

I remember that look you had for me
from the other side of the couch
the Christmas you got back from Paris
and full
and flowing
like your hair…
suddenly a woman
no longer my kid brothers friend.

I see this look you have for me
as you lean back into your bed
Tres Coquette, at this citywide street party
and full
and flowing
like your hair…
voicing a mock question:
do I like the sheets?

You want me tonight.
After the tension of years.
And this is how you tell me.
With a high evasive voice.
not you own
And a mock question.
Do you like the sheets?
I like it, the delivery, not the sheets
because it scares me just enough
an invitation unreal enough
that it might not be real

the night and the street bring us together
with your hand pressing on mine
pulling me forward into the crowd

i was sad and you were tense
but not anymore

I love the force in your wrist
I love kissing you.
as you do me
because it all goes
all those dark things that keep us from sleep
will keep us from sleep again
we will not sleep tonight

It’s illicit to take the older brother.
It’s illicit to take you.
It’s illicit to make you come
with them in the next room

and we like illicit.

I catch you in my mouth.

are you scared
no why
i am
this is bad
because i could get used to this
that wouldn’t be so bad.. i like this…

I take you in my mouth.

I feel ease.

your face in my chest hair.
your leg folded over mine
it comes to me and leaves me in
your hands
your kiss
of vanilla–
and the salt of your sex–


between the suckerpunch of the hangover
and the dizzy bliss of the bottle’s kiss
my kiss
your kiss
and this

memory of bliss.

(cc) Benjamin George Griffin – Unless otherwise noted, all content can be shared and altered for non-commercial purposes if you state my name, and agree to share your own work under the same, open, terms. Improve my start already! Id est I have made the deed described as Creative Commons (cc) Attribution-NonCommericial-ShareAlike version 3.0 (CC BY-NC-SA 3.0), but otherwise maintain natural copyright.


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