Appropriation

I watch you touch one
wrapping your arms around her shoulders
closing your eyes and pulling her close

I watch you bend your head
pressing your lips against the hair of another
smiling down into her face

I watch you squat to greet a little one
rubbing your face against his curving belly
making him giggle

I watch your love in action
and tuck away a piece each time
for me.

--Chantelle Franc

He loves me?

pink petals fall
a drift of pink on the floorboard
till only a stalk stands
with one or two petals clinging

I will leave them there till they disintegrate
and then breathe the dust

Cracked with the strain

While journeying home
I dream of a house
and in the house a room
and in the room a table
and on the table a wooden bowl
cracked with the strain of containing.

Fruit of all kinds;
pineapples spike the air with tropical promise
electric oranges, juice ready to burst
at the pressure of my teeth
apples and pears wafting harvest
pomegranates ripe with seed
berries fragrant and fragile
lemons shining yellow
dates dark with syrup
mango lush as a woman’s hip
peaches cleft with down
figs, densely feminine
bananas curved in arcs of invitation
grapes promising wine.

Their scents assail me
a cloud of seduction
beckoning
promising
demanding
whispering to be touched;
smooth and bare
furred and soft
rough and scratching.

Desire stunned, I gape
Breathless.
Though I didn’t know I was hungry
I want to tear off peels
and break off pieces
stuffing my mouth
in a frenzy of feasting.
And after that initial ravishment
to slowly quiet
my still-burning appetite
one fruit
one bite
at a time.

I close my eyes
and the image lingers
verdant
fervent
thirsting to be consumed.

But mine is not this feast.
Though I stretch out my hand
it is beyond my reach.
I can’t let it touch my lips
nor steal a bite
nor feel the tender flesh melting on my tongue.

Mine is to hunger.
The fruit at which I can but stare and breathe
a promise;
the gift not in the eating
but in the yearning.

While journeying home
I dream of a house
and in the house a room
and in the room a table
and on the table a wooden bowl
cracked with the strain of containing.

--Chantelle Franc

Sweet into sweet

Whipped cream melting
into cocoa
your touch dissolving
into me
the two distinct
then swirling
into one

--Chantelle Franc

Speak on

Let me listen to your voice
Beloved
sounding deep thoughts or shallow
speak on throughout the years
and when it wavers and wanders
with the weariness of age
keep speaking
till my ears grow cold.

Jam tomorrow

Today
I hunger for you
hunger for you
today.

--Chantelle Franc

Topography of you

Let me explore you.
I want to taste every scar
feel each texture against my lips
as you tell me their stories
one by one.

--Chantelle Franc

Loan me a book

Loan me a book that I might write
a sonnet in the margins
in future years
when I am gone
read it
and remember me.

-- Suzanne DeWitt Hall

Never enough

You are
cool drink
and unquenchable thirst
you are
quiet satiety
and unapeasable hunger
you are
soft touch
and howling itch
the more I get of you
the more I want.

--Suzanne DeWitt Hall

Night Song

I never understood
the power of a name
until a love affair began
with yours.

Now the whisper of it
is in my ear
the shape of it
is in my mouth
the feel of it
is on my tongue
the taste of it
is on my lips
the sweet rush of it
is in my breast.

In the still of night
when I hunger for you
your name fills my heart
and I wait.


--Chantelle Franc

Let your scent carry me

Wake me in the dark of night
let me feel you in the texture of linen
whisper my name in the settling of beams
let your scent bridge the distance
and carry me
to dreams of you.

--Chantelle Franc

Know me more

In future I may call this the summer of the peach.

I found a longer and a shorter version of this poem, but preferred the shorter (below).

Upon reading, it occurs to me to wonder if the fruit Eve bit was a peach...

Know me more

Share a peach with me
softly ripe
and by it
know me more.

--Chantelle Franc

Frozen with waiting

I am a spiral vine
grown 'round your tree.
When you are gone
I hold the empty shape
cradling your form
as if frozen
with waiting.

--Chantelle Franc

Breath alone

Pick up my call
but say nothing
your breath alone enough
to calm my soul.

--Chantelle Franc

Do you wonder at my silence?

If I begin to speak of my love for you
I may not be able to stop.

--Chantelle Franc

Day and Night

My heart yowls like a cat in maddened heat.

--Chantelle Franc

Since you asked

You are
a strong hand
a shouted truth
a bar raised

You are
shelter on a stormy night
a cozy lap
a whispered prayer

You are
friend, lover, champion
hero, teacher, student
thinker, dreamer, muse

You are
escape, release, rescue
comfort, confidante, joy

You are
an undiscovered feast
an untried banquet
a laden table, beckoning

You are
dream made man

--Chantelle Franc

Meow

Lay your jacket down for me
so that, cat like
I can sniff your cuffs and collar
push my head into the dark tunnel of your arm
and rub my face against the shiny lining.
I'll knead myself a black nest
sink down into your scent
and start to purr.

--Chantelle Franc

All curves and sweet intoxication

I am besotted.
As soaked with love
as a wine-steeped pear;
drenched red
with heady sweetness
and the desire
to be consumed.

--Chantelle Franc

An apple by any other name

I sought the impossible;
a word to describe you.
The closest I came
was
delicious.

--Chantelle Franc