Loving Men-Masterpiece


aadenimHis body is bathed
in cotton; it breathes
through denim
and leather;
blinders for my eyes.

Hands reach
for ivory buttons,
closures against the wind;
fingers dance
on the ivory like a pianist
sliding the ivory through
tight holes.

Unbuttoned, I open the sides
of his shirt unmasking
his chest which now teases
me like a joke;
his chest, taut, firm with a spattering
of hair like paint splashes;
his chest hair moves
as my fingers dance
on his wooded prairie.

Hands move to his snap
and zipper which when tugged
growl as teeth are barred;
teeth which held his
briefs at bay like a police
line: do not cross
it says.

aadenim1I pull away cotton
and denim to expose
flesh upon which my
hands feel hunger
and longing and yearning.

Naked now, I study the frame
and not the painting of cloth
and denim; the frame of flesh
is what I study with devouring
eyes.

Next will be my mouth
and tongue tasting this
masterpiece.