Biblical Erotica—by Daniel Edward Moore

Mountain men are clear about

bearded Gods and bullies, how

introductions can break like stone

covered in commandments.

I, for one, prefer the edge of razors,

as the wilderness ends

in every mirror framed

with spiders blushing.

He said, the bed, burned like salt

in the wounds of sleep

where dreaming is the prophet’s way

of drooling like a river.

I washed his face the way a mother

fills a mouth with milk.

Silver clouds crossed our eyes,

blue with contemplation.

~

Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His work is forthcoming in I-70 Review, Tar River Poetry Journal, Ponder Review, Sierra Nevada Review, Texas Review Press, South Florida Poetry Journal, and Bryant Literary Review. His book Waxing the Dents is from Brick Road Poetry Press.