Missing Poem by Ivana RadanJamnicki

So there will be no more of that sweet agony
I won’t know the different stages of hardening of your tongue
Or how your hands would play with my nudity
Always striking by the surprise
No getting to know the occasional rough touch of your beard
I can’t think what part of my skin and body would miss it the most
Is it the belly? The thighs?
And how can I let go of the sound of your shallow breathing
Or panting onto my neck
When we are all tongues and bodies
Where do I find the honest wish to get released
From the greediness for your playful touch
Or get back from melting and evaporating
To solid and everyday down-to-earth