Number Three

Orpheus Falls In (The Alternative View)
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

Number Three

It is pleasing
to know my touch
pleases;

to know that it reaches,
it piques, achieves;

that it cleaves
much like the parting of
the swelling Red Sea;

It is pleasing
to know my touch
pleases;

that it now stands
upon a pinnacle
in the pantheon of man
and the somatically surreal;

it pleases me to know
that my touch
can steal a breath away.

Yes, it is pleasing
to know my touch
pleases;

teases with raw excess,
softly peddling, pleading, softening,
until it can pack a punch.

It is pleasing to know
what Prometheus and Pygmalion;
Midas and Adam, reaching
across the Sistine heavens,
all felt.

And it is pleasing
to know that my touch
can melt.

I know Rosebud now;
I know the secret of the dying breath,
the final utterance that met
memory with fate, the sweet taste
between rose hips,
whet petals petaling, softly saying—
Rosebud, Rosebud…Rosebud.

It is pleasing
to know my touch
pleases;

that it teases till raw excess,
softly petaling, softening,
to pack a punch.