Napo 6: Ekphrasis

Kissing the Blueberry Man

My stomach rumbles with anticipation.
This faceless man holds me in his arms
As the early summer warmth streams down
Upon us and this scene of pastoral pleasure.

I would gaze into his eyes if he had them,
But he does not. His face is but a piece of fruit—
A blueberry perched on two broad shoulders.
So much blue I lose myself in azure hunger.

How strange. My body, today, ripens
Not as an apple or a pear but as a human.
He, for once, becomes the piece of fruit
Made for my pleasure.

I’m the one with the hunger.
There is no tongue to taste me,
Only my tongue to take in the nectar,
Only my teeth to sink into the skin,
Only my throat to do the swallowing of seeds.

I know that sugar highs come to an end.
I know that fruit can only sustain the flesh
For a moment’s pleasure. But oh,
The blueberry lying next to me
Kicks his foot up like a schoolboy
And reclines as though this pasture were his bed
And he and I were all alone here
As he offers me only sweetness
Here in the garden of earthly delights.