Response to Pablo Neruda’s ‘The Potter’

This is a clay thirst trap
As pot is to clay
My breast to your hands to fondle
Should have been a Mona Lisa
A stone to be kept in the best frames
Engrave your tongue
Deep in the caves of my neck
Making amends to my insanity
Messy and clumsy does me well
But knit me in with compassion
Touch the core of my soul.
I am yours
I’ll let you do whatever to me,
And you can
But go gentle on me
Or leave me battered and bruised enough
Till the sour taste reminds me
Of ways i let you find euphoria

Hypermind