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Seeking Fluency

Thinking of Cathal Ó Séarcaigh

Shimmering skin, your bioluminescence effervesces,
cupid eyes and claret cheeks, lips bow-shaped,
your August-boiled blood keeps us both warm
the whole year round.
Into Sunny Boy’s hidden realm
where honeyed starlight ever shines
I am invited, my fingers take furtive
steps parting amber wisps of wheat.
Breeze and breath mingle
Eternity enfolded into a moment,
russet locks sweat-matted to your pate.
You and I, hand on thigh, are
proof that arduous passions reside
on both sides of the Equator,
that lust boils over uncontrollably
above and below both Tropics.
On seashores we dared to name our love
and shout if from the depths of our lungs.
Lain, trysting, in tailwinds twisting,
lingering on a sandy bedstead till morning,
at dawn he was a crowned a dew-laden prince;
he was Fay-boy of Ulster stock
come to weave magicks upon me.
What in many idioms might be forbidden
can on an isolated Éire coastline find
refuge, hidden esplanades where
he and I, and I and he, can to
our own selves be true.
Beguile with smiles and enchant
with cheeks north and south
the gleams within his eyes can raise
the dead and lull them into submission.
Thus, entranced I seek no escape but only
to express myself. I cannot speak Gaelic
but if our tongues entwined, I’m of the
belief that I could get the hang of it and
we could we could consummate our
encounter with a bang, caressing each
other’s foreign tongues seeking fluency.

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