forgive me for the parts of you i’m yet to kiss by Ifeanyi Ogbo
MARGINALIA • SKIP TO THE POEM
The curious thing about desire is the way it inhabits my body. Some days it almost feels like a secret, and some days I am a bowl of hot soup you drop onto the floor, spilling everywhere, making a mess, and by that I mean: it’s everywhere. Everywhere.
I, too, ask forgiveness—for every word I have failed to find to describe how it is to be held by you. And for letting myself fail anyway.
forgive me for the parts of you i’m yet to kiss
i used to think there was only one part of
the body meant for kisses,
but on your body I discovered a thousand places.
you were born naked so I could clothe you with kisses,
my lips were made to adorn every inch of
the landscape of your skin.
kisses on places you’ll never want your mother
to read about,
sinful actions too holy for confession.
and when we finally merge into one
my body memorizing every part of yours
i discover there are ways to visit heaven without dying.
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This poem appeared in A Forever Kind of Dream by Ifeanyi Ogbo, published by Bobtimystic Books, 2015. Shared here with profound gratitude.
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