You, I
You, I
By Beth Cortez-Neavel
What
makes me come and
what makes
me stay
and.
I like
my body
when it is with your
body
and.
You want
and. I want
and we wanted
and the books
were all
she could almost bear
annexes of books
and Boston spring summers
with you t e a s i n g
touchingmesoclose
a brush
of the lips
on her shoulder
and the feel of your
and then
on my back as I
as I
pressed
and my hair
and she who is me
and the
it was the.
Books
always.
Seduce a scholar with books
and always.
Seduce her
gently and
hard-
ly
. Touch
her hard nipples and bring her to
that point of ecstasy
that she who is me and I
With her hands and
your hands and
the movement of the
Bed and the
and the.
And the
Come again?
And the rocking
of the bodies
and the
loving of the
sweat
dripping
dripped
drip
down
And the sweat dripping off and
down and
it’s dripping on her and she, me, I
Can I?
Can taste the sweat from your body and her body combined
and you can taste the sweat
And
the
dripping
on her
and she’s
I’m
moaning
in your
ear and then biting and
the whispering and the
tension
and. the. claws. in your back as you bury your head
your face your teeth your tongue your
Oh
deep and
Oh
your hand
Oh
they play her
like she is her own
instrument
and her body is
singing
Oh
electric
because
If any thing
is sacred then
the and
then and
sacred, the human body is.
Sacred.
And the sheets
are wrinkled
grooved
furrowed
rutted
peaked like mountain
tops and wet
with her waves and
you can
smell
seetastehear
her moans mixed with your moans
and feel
touch
tangle
entertwine your.
Body with
her sweat and
your sweat with her lips
and
she is all lips and
you are deep
deep and
there is no.
There is
no.
There isn’t any
and
the .
There isn’t an end
and I
she
she and
you and
it is
and how can –
And she is pressed against your
you
I
the strain
the taut muscles
the sticky sweat
the oh
The
And
The oh
The again
The deeper
Harder
Take me
And you
You are
taken
and
and you are
arched, arching
arching, pressing
pressing and grinding
meintoyouintomeintoyouintomeintomeintoyouintomeintomeintome
and it is
it was
simply
lust
and again
will not be another
time
unless.
very breathless, very evocative, and a wonderful approach to the subject matter. I like this poem quite a bit.
I want to comment on every poem, but don’t know if I should. If anyone gets tired of me, I’ll shut up. I am trying to help (who? why?). A few lines into the poem, that’s e.e., which would be cool, might be cool, if other sexual literary references peppered the poem. This would accentuate the scholarly turn-on aspect. Maybe I missed the others, but if I didn’t, it’s just kind of a rip-off. I like the spacing of t e a s i n g. The poem also seems to be hinting at this entity that is created by the mingling of two bodies. “Can taste the sweat from your body and her body combined and you can taste the sweat” The bodies become entwined, then the clichéd oneness that, here, was interesting. The oneness here that I found interesting was the initial mysterious gender/sex of the speaker. That “oneness” would be otherworldly and not unisex, or asex, but other, inexplicable, shape-shifting, obtuse, abstruse, etc. Who is tasting the sweat? Is it my body? Is Sex talking about my body with her body? You’re not making me taste the sweat of your body and her body, are you? That’s disgusting. This aspect, unfortunately, disintegrates with lines like “her moans mixed with your moans” and others, that when combined, really seem to clue you in on the sex and real, tangible existence of the speaker. I guess, I wanted the speaker to be sex itself–sometimes male, sometimes female (during sex, sometimes a woman does something considered masculine and vice versa—here I will not be led into a sexual sexist argument). If this is what you were aiming for, you were on the right track, but then derailed (in my opinion, of course). And, I don’t like hard nipples. I mean, wait, I like hard nipples, just not hard nipples in this poem. The ecstasy of the poem is in what isn’t said and the repetition, the pulse, the punctuations in unexpected places (yeah, baby!) Back to work! The world needs more poetry!
I read the poem
that speaks of love
and I laugh because it is foolish
and smarmy and cliché
and the one about passionate
hard deep sweaty
‘entertwined’ …was this deliberate?
bed sheets in a mess
the dripping
and I blush
and then get angry
because its so explicit
and I cry because
we don’t have it
anymore
i think alot of this poem is very cliche, but i feel you pulled it off. i agree with a lot of what christopher said, but i liked the hard nipples b/c it really caught me off guard.
looks like “cliché” is the word of the day. its funny, I can read this poem again and again and never see it that way at all. so yeah, I guess the writer did pull it off – at least for some.
christopher – you keep putting that much time, effort and intelligence into a critique and I can’t see anybody wanting you to shut up.
well, my REAL comment would say nothing about cliché. just my stupid cliché poem does. 🙂
this poem actually is stunning. no lie, i was actually sitting on the edge of my seat with my nose an inch from the screen reading so fast so i could keep up with the passion. when i was done i wanted my husband. now.
yup. i read it again and there is nothing cliché about “You, I”. if you will notice, my smarmy cliché poem refers to two poems; a cliché love poem and the passionate one
hey! this thing cut off my last comment! what I wrote was … my smarmy cliché poem refers to two poems; a cliché love poem and the passionate one
hey! this thing cut off my last comment! what I wrote was … my smarmy cliché poem refers to two poems; a cliché love poem and the passionate one… that’s “You, I”. so, i hope I set that straight. “You , I” is NOT cliché. m’kay?
BTW, who wrote “You, I”? Anyone coming forward to claim it?
I wrote it, but how do I change it to my name. I tried to do that earlier, but I got all confused by my internet again.
Beth
By the way, the “she” and the “i” are the same person. Because when making love
fucking
having sex
it is an out-of-body experience as much as it is the most intense in-body experience of all time.
This was a true story.
I was thinking of the Molly Bloom soliloquay.