Thursday 5 November 2015

1 Poem by Wendy Gist

Passion Fog

Disintegrate external talk
into tactile trance.

No need to say
anything anymore.

Misty pull: adored gent’s
playful sentiment, analgesic.

He piques her:
amatory animal gaze, soft

smile, with a carnal ‘umm’
at the back of tongue.

Way too damn fine,
he throbs in a nebulous haze.

She craves his breath
at jugular, ear,

but capture it not
upon the teary December fog.

She can’t tell, up till now,
if he strives to bite

or kiss tender.


Wendy Gist has had her poetry and fiction featured or forthcoming in Amsterdam Quarterly, Glint Literary Journal, Gravel, Grey Sparrow Journal, Juked, New Plains Review, Oyez Review, Poetry Pacific, Soundings Review, The Fourth River, Toad Suck Review and many other fine journals. A native Arizonan, she now lives in New Mexico, where she serves as managing editor of the Red Savina Review.

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