The In-Between Places

I'm more than tits and a cunt,
you know.
I've all kinds of places, above, below,
and in between.
They like to be touched, too.

And though they can't be entered or sucked,
they can grow chill bumps
and can be stroked with finger tips
or tongue tips
and they too, are me.

Just once, I'd like you to touch me
like I was as beautiful as my spirit feels--
touch me with your eyes all the way open
fixed on my eyes, fixed on what lies beneath
my eyes,
filling with tears.

For in between the mind and the flesh,
in between the waking and sleeping,
in between the love and resentment,
there is something else entirely.

Why don't you see me?
Can't you touch me as if I'm beautiful,
like I feel deep inside?

Go on to the next poem, Four Houses Down.

Back to Poems Index

All poems copyrighted by the author, Tracey Besmark 1997Š