Oscar S. Cisneros


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Love Like Urban Vines
By Oscar S. Cisneros

A leaf from the vine beneath which we kissed
Serves to remind me of lips that are missed.
So long ago it seems that night.
In fragments of memory I remember the sight
Of her lithe supple form, and the youth in her eyes
And the softest wet lips that spoke their desires
Into my ears and all over my face.
With the tip of her tongue she soon began to trace
My eyes and eyebrows, cheekbones and chin
As my arms wrapped around her waist so thin.
That night we left the party, left all those people behind
And kissed in an ally in the chill beneath a vine.
It's no wonder that this memory has lingered for so long
Like dreams that persist when their emotions are strong.
I suppose it will fade like the leaf from the vine
But for now I will dwell in this moment divine:
The kiss, the touch, the chill in the air,
The feminine scent of her sweet skin so bare.
The intoxicating pleasure of her luscious licks,
Like electric little arrows that stung my spine with pricks.


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