This ivory in my bed
stares straight ahead
when I kiss her.
To come alive,
to move or kiss me back,
I try to convince her
with my lips.
Maybe Aphrodite will see
me with my fair lady,
and take pity.
But this stone doesn’t
smooth with wear,
it crumbles and falls away.
Since the topic seems to be bad poetry.
Clenching my pencil,
There’s only a tangy memory of how …
“I used to kiss her on the two lips;
but it’s all over now.”
;-)
The way one first reads the double entendre must be some kind of Freudian insight into the state of mind of the reader. I was definitely looking at it as an “ending”, and it was only later that I realized the second meaning.