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Lust in Translation

September 30, 2009

by Bryan Borland

Between gulps of syllables
you said you wanted to speak my language,
the coded initiation to our lesson
that would leave nouns and adjectives
covering my body in your slanted handwriting,
the roughness of your voice,
the words “cocksucker” and “faggot”
lost in translation, my burning ears
heard “baby” and “please.”
With your penis in my mouth
it always seemed I held the power
of vocabulary.
You slapped my face,
I felt a caress.
You pulled my hair like a proud older brother.
“Swallow it bitch” was a love note I kept
for years
folded in my back pocket.

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Bryan Borland (PoeticGrin.com) is a poet from Little Rock, Arkansas. His cat likes to claw his expensive leather journal. He thinks the claw marks give it character.

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  1. September 30, 2009 at 9:04 pm

    The lines “With your penis in my mouth /
    it always seemed I held the power /
    of vocabulary” are especially striking, as is “You pulled my hair like a proud older brother.”

  2. Barbara LaMorticella
    October 3, 2009 at 6:23 pm

    This is such a good, such an expressive poem, moving in its depiction of one of the recourses that love, though dammed (and damned) in one manifestation, wlll take to continue its pouring.

  3. poeticgrin
    October 4, 2009 at 3:24 pm

    Thanks to Peg and Barbara for the comments and to qarrtsiluni for including me in this wonderful series. I’m honored to appear on a site that I so enjoy!

  4. October 5, 2009 at 6:55 pm

    ‘Gulps’ sets the tone for me. What a good, sad, moving poem.

  1. September 30, 2009 at 9:01 pm
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