First, I want to make you come in my hand
while I watch you and kiss you, and if you cry,
I’ll drink your tears while, with my whole hand, I
hold your drenched loveliness contracting. And
after a breath, I want to make you full
again, and wet. I want to make you come
in my mouth like a storm. No tears now. The sum
of your parts is my whole most beautiful
chart of the constellations — your left breast
in my mouth again. You know you’ll have to be
your age. As I lie beside you, cover me
like a gold cloud, hands everywhere, at last
inside me where I trust you, then your tongue
where I need you. I want you to make me come.
I forgot to post a poem yesterday, so I thought I’d make up for it with this sexy piece from lesbian poet Marilyn Hacker. Weirdly enough, Marilyn Hacker used to be married to science fiction writer Samuel R Delaney, until they both realised they were gay.