Orientalia

Here is a slender noose that runs down from neck to brassiere
Made of silk and cashmere and upon it is a lightweight bodice
Lace in fine cotton yarn, now if you pull that noose you still
Need to unravel the length of lace round beneath my breasts
And the loop that goes over the back of my neck you must untie
Before I am naked golden brown nipples push against cotton
Laces, you must lift over my head, lick my breasts – they shy
They tender they sore for you, suck me gasp and sigh and turn
This glowing gaze towards the window and the balmy morning
Light swells the pleasure of your tongue, your brilliant lapping.

This skirt is long sheer silk batikked in verdant colours and round
It is wrapped tightly a beautiful songket of purple, orange, gold
Of fine cotton, hand-dyed and dipped in gold, woven on a loom
Made of bamboo, have my songket unfastened so you may hold
Me, the silk between us now, the silk between your fingers and
My warm sex, lift the silk, take the cashmere, pray and look upon
The Mangosteen of Maluku, taste the white fragrant flesh ripened
And nurtured within three or four degrees latitude of the equator
Consummate its dark and intoxicating wine, feel how terra firma
Turns when a white man’s head decorates my Orientalia.

Fatima Lasay, San Roque
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Thursday, July 2, 2015

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