Could it be

Could it be

When you leave
I smiling hold
this soft furry
bouncing
tingling
tickling
I don't know what to call it
'thing'

it moves round me
all day
moves me round
all day

tickling tingly 'thing'

waiting to bounce out
my eyes
my mouth
my ears
my nose
my belly
my thighs
and all those other shy soft places
waiting to be named
in subtler tones

waiting to bounce out
soft funny
bouncy cuddly
tingling tickly
ah! so touchy tender 'thing'
waiting to bounce out at you
when you get home

could it be.


from The Arrival of Brighteye and Other Poems (Bloodaxe, 2000) copyright © Jean 'Binta' Breeze 2000, used by permission of the author and Bloodaxe Books Ltd

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