The Artist’s Model, Reading
Words have angel-tongued you,
honeyed your skin’s soft down.
Split and consumed you
bite     by       bite
to the naked stone.
Muscle bare, unprotected
before A Stranger, whose
strokes circle and ring
private places. Flesh,
that parted eagerly
on a sugared almond promise.
Eyes side-track lines
you no longer comprehend, whilst
blood retreats into veneer cracks.
Bitter fingers tremble, cold.  He whispers
Hold still.
Sweet juices stain his lips.

Jennie Owen

If you have any comments on this poem, Jennie Owen would be pleased to hear from you.