Word Sexual

Tip of the Tongue

Lately I’ve been wondering
at just where my sex drive
could be hiding
because, for all my restless searching,
from touch to tongue to taste
I’ve failed to find
that primal call that burns in flesh
I can’t seem to fully grasp.
You came to me then,
crooked smiles and righteous scorn
blazing across your skull
and cracked open my books
like they were pairs of legs
running your fingers across the lines
tickling the ridges of the words
till the spine sighed
with the attention it had been yearning for.
I want to verb you so hard
right now.

I want to grab your pages
and tear them
fold them, slam them shut and
rip them open
over and over
take the purity of your blank
spaces
and fill every margin
with words
MY words
not anyone else’s.

I want to fill
volumes
with words about you
about the trees, the sky
about the letters
about teeth, and dancing
about the nothingness, and God
I want to fill you
with everything I’ve seen
and felt
and I know that my body
is just not efficient enough
for that.
So I’ve poured my passion
into pens
and penetrated the paper
letting the lines jolt across
like the bucking of hips in heat
dedicating to you a sexuality
deeper than the animal falsity
of fucking.
I’ve found my sex drive.
You’re reading it.
Right now.

Amber Koneval

Amber Koneval received a 2014 Pushcart Prize nomination for her poem, "Word Sexual." She is a Colorado native. In in college, she has three poems published in the Apogee, the literary magazine produced by Regis University. Her body of work "Use Templates in your Essay" won the Editor’s Choice award. Her poems inspired from her missionary work in Juarez, Mexico and Kenya, Africa have been published through her parish, Saint Thomas More Parish in Englewood, Colorado. She has also appeared in Crack the Spine, Atticus Review, Extermination Angel, Storyteller and MOLT.

Latest posts by Amber Koneval (see all)


%d bloggers like this: