I want a woman the way birds, sick from a long flight, want water. Her body in motion, curves splaying out on the bed like flowers. I am desperate for a body like my own. I bloom her into existence, my lover, and she has orchids in her hair, bright and resplendent. I hold my hands out to her. She kisses my fingers and wraps the white linen sheet around me. I kiss and kiss and kiss. The sunlight filters in. The curtains are sheer. We take no time. We take it all.
Louisa Schnaithmann is an autistic poet and the author of Plague Love (Moonstone Press, 2021). Her work has appeared in The New Verse News, The Summerset Review, tiny wren lit, and elsewhere. She is the consulting editor for ONE ART: a journal of poetry and lives in Southeastern Pennsylvania.
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Stunningly gorgeous poem!
WOW! Lush and real and perfect. 🔥