Men of Great Stature

September 27, 2020

Paintings & poem By: MAGNOLIA LAFLEUR


Where are these men of great stature?

Whose voices disrupt built tension.
Lilac Lips soft with bones of timber that bring the heart to ascension.

Oh wonderous creature, muscled flesh and breathing hair, like blowing grass set a fire by a desperate prayer.

In the day, his logic & legs planked, firm like cedar, a focused dance with one direction,
but at night, billowing from the belly of his heart,
he folds into my arms where we lay with no part, mere perfection.

Honorable, his tounge forged with the stone from the tablet of Moses.
His eyes, ignited glass.
The color: pointed asphalt with a surrounding earth filament of tungsten wire
capturing not just face, but heart and mine own desires;

My lids, they close.
I am his,
of this he knows.

Your gentle hands, the craftmanship
Carved to hold me with one tight grip.

Rib torn for me, mine ears split for thee, summoned love born in the fashion of caterpillars floating from drunkard jars, colored wings detailed in the memories of future days of ours.

Cavernous, captivating and capsizing; You- These were the words that spilt from my veins, unraveled my nerves from start, when first your flesh paid heed to my thirsting heart.

The beginning and end of me,
a happy birth, and even happier death I do foresee.

And such a handsome face, salted or water fresh,
as I lick your lips to swallow the tears built in joy or in your fears, to refresh.
And you to me? I recall you saying, I was your tonic, your jubilee.

So are you that man of stature?
Finally come home.
Asleep no more, caught inside my dream catcher?

Tis it not your decision to make?
To have the courage to stay awake.
“Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.”
To love, to kiss, please more.