I am a mouth, <br />a wet mouth, moving <br />slow suctions <br />of stiff leaves <br />into my myriad teeth, <br />eating <br />green till the bared veins <br />stand out, <br />quiver, brittle, <br />and, tensed, snap. <br /> <br />I am both he and she <br />one slippery <br />muscle, the pulse <br />of absolute darkness, <br />mouthing my eggs <br />upon decay, <br />and, humped, sliming <br />wet silver <br />at every surge. <br />I ripple, glisten <br />black, stroking <br />the prone surface <br /> <br />into my hunger, <br />each caress <br /> <br />heart’s need and ruin, <br />every thrust <br /> <br />a slow comment <br />on love and love.<br /><br />Robin Skelton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/slug/
