Redolence of the Orator
He inhabits the air
with energy and sensuality.
Words vibrate,
a great storyteller.
His voice ignites
like the scent of a storm.
Some listen, their mouths
gape wide, indelicately open.
I wonder what it is like
To sleep in the same bed,
to hear each other breathing,
to inhale scents of each other,
to press my face beside his
and to keep there forever,
To ravish his intelligence,
to violate his vulnerability.
.
Watching him,
I have no idea
if this is madness.
His presence,
a recorded impression of words,
pounding
on my poetic memory.
I don’t know
if he has a sweetheart,
to ask would be pointless.
Amy Barry
