Robert Beveridge

Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH., USA. Recent/upcoming appearances in Savant-Garde, Other People’s Flowers, and The Indiana Horror Review, among others.

 

Iris
for Allison Beveridge

The weight of your kiss last night, taste
of flesh pressed closer and harder with each
collision of lips
The weight of your words
as you whispered “make love to me”
in that voice, high, eager, innocent
and yet so full of lust

I was ready before you asked, entered
you as if for the first time, slow, gentle,
filled with need but also filled with need
to make this coupling last forever

I could
not close my eyes. I had to see you, wife,
whose body I know better than any
save my own, the contrast of you
milk-pale, delicious skin against my tawny,
deep rose of aureole and nipple in gentle rhythm
with the rock of our bodies. I looked up
to find your lips curled in that perfect
satisfied smile that tells me you longed
for this all day, and in your eyes I saw
everything I have always wanted to be.

© 2018 Robert Beveridge