On Wealth

 

 

I caught myself on your ear
Listening to the sound of the wind
Your I and my I embraced
Afterwards, I took my seat on your eye
I have watched the sun rise
Countless times
But today, I saw it for the first time.

 

 

 

(c) A Hannan

 

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Sunrise

O! Morning glory; sunrise.

~

The scent of you; lingering still
Where it penetrated me,
Lodging into my braided ribs
Ropes, stretching around your embered embrace
Collecting silence
As we enter each other,
Everything remaining still,
Stained,
Each breath birthing an incandescent sun
Graciously ascending.

(c) A Hannan

Morn

Morn

His tongue in my ear,

Mornings first breath.

Fingers ripple over naked, waves

Of desperate hands all over me

Aching like cheeks pressed with wine

Savoring each sip they draw

From me. Shakespearian sonnets

And prose, so smoothly sculptured,

Metaphors pushing through

Motionless minutes, sultry soliloquy’s

Moaned over ripe lips, cherried.

He devours them.

Licking at juices

Spilt like droplets of nectar,

God blessed,

Sweet.

I sigh.

(c) A Hannan