There Are Other Organs than the Heart:
Body Parts for Love
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Joy always is the disappearing man.
He gestures with his fingers from his lips
And goes. No other sign so surely can
Express this truth. You watch his leaving hips
Move, shifting, not as strongly as they did
In bed, but calm now almost as a champ
Who wins a medal and who now has rid
Himself of burdens. Hips no longer damp
With humping, welled with sweat, can leave behind
The one they shoved the pubic bone against.
That man or woman can no longer bind
The thruster to them. He cannot be fenced.
And so be blows affection from his chest
Through throat and moves beyond the ones he blessed.
~ Phillip Whidden