Sea Salted Kisses

Rescue me from men
who kiss with lips tight
as mother's old girdle,
see females as holes
to spade in the dark and
when asked about foreplay
drag out their golf clubs
in utter confusion.

Give me a man who
wraps his tongue
tight around mine
knows what spaces
to stroke
and explore,
a man who will 
take the damp side
of the bed, and dampen
it again, who will sigh

deeply as the moon falls
over the sea,
knowing salt-borne
dreams will arouse us
over and yet
over again when
morning tides rise
and the seagulls sing.

Pris Campbell
(c)2002

Accepted for publication in Limestone Circle : Fall 2002