Thursday, January 10, 2008

YOSANO AKIKO (1878-1942)

Black hair
Tangled in a thousand strands.
Tangled my hair and
Tangled my tangled memories
Of our long nights of lovemaking.


Press my breasts,
Part the veil of mystery,
A flower blooms there,
Crimson and fragrant.


Not speaking of the way,
Not thinking of what comes after,
Not questioning name or fame,
Here, loving love,
You and I look at each other.


Left on the beach
Full of water,
A worn out boat
Reflects the white sky
Of early autumn.


Glamourpuss said...

I'm a sucker for a mucky poem...


August said...

O so am I.

That's why I loved the series you posted.