Alison Daniel
lives in New Zealand where her work has been widely published in small
presses, as well as in America. On-line, her work has been published in
Stirring,
The
Absinthe Literary Review, Outsider Ink,
Clean
Sheets,
Recursive Angels, Eclectica, and many others
including Ophelia's
Muse, Mind Caviar's sister site devoted to erotic tragedies and elegies.
E-mail
Alison Daniel.
The Symbolic
Great Rite
For Andrew
Perfumed sweat carelessly
tossed like salt
on sandy apparitions causes
Orpheus to weep.
Perhaps, all men do in December's
heat.
I imagine the desert dreams
our chalice
overflows with wine. It
spills between my breasts.
My arms and legs become
our pentagram
under the moonshot veil
when he kneels
between my feet to worship
the red dust
of Witjira, now semen soaked
by the Symbolic
Great Rite we share amongst
dry river beds,
the restful paperbark trees
fringing ancient
springs as our fingers peel
layers from the
naked myth of our skin,
and the night sky;
it's vibrantly clear.
Copyright
© 2001 Alison Daniel. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.
A Cyber-Sex Slave's Sonnet
For Andrew
I do not understand Paradise
Lost when cerulean eyes
watch words disrobe on the
screen's flat surface,
a reminder of primitive
earth eons ago-
indirect immortality offers
Odysseus the chance
to play with Circe's wandering
ghost on that isle
their sex life is unreal.
He glimpses eidolon
undressing apparition after
apparitions
have left cyber-sex-slaves
struck by questions.
What does this mean, this
need to arrange
ourselves to never meet
except in that scared place
of imagination, shared as
if it were our scented bed:
your semen on my belly,
my thighs, my cunt hair wet,
my breathing loud and harsh
when I convince myself
I've tasted your flesh.
Copyright
© 2001 Alison Daniel. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.
Vulgar Poem #3
If waves of my tongue swallow
whispers
to tie you, belly down with
silky scarves,
you'd be hard when I insert
my thumb,
pushing it in with a ripple
of fingers
until the depth is felt
as that boy
who filled the dreams of
your youth
but this time you'll cry
out loud for the arc
of your arms to break the
tide when my
nipples are stiff on your
back. You'd buck
and moan with my fist clenched
like a heart, beating to
the rhythm of us.
Copyright
© 2001 Alison Daniel. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.
May I?
wash your cock
with my tongue, rinse your
balls
in my mouth, press my lips
to your ass, suck you
until you're hard, pushing
the tip
to the back of my open throat.
May I arch my head,
meet the glide of silky
skin,
your shaft
moving to that awareness
we share how it is.
You fuck my cunt, my ass,
my tits. Tight nipples
pinched by wet fingers
finger fucking until your
fist
is our heart
and all I see is the pulse
of your wrist,
how sticky it is
in the heat of summer, here
where we lay
covered
in the sweat of our sex.
Copyright
© 2001 Alison Daniel. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.
Join
Adult
Friend Finder-- Meet Real Men & Women
World's
Largest Free Personals
|