The gecko guards the stairs, clinging
wraithlike to the top step, and his small
supple body is curved like the mythic
salamander of old, his shape erotic,
gently sexual in a way I once
feared; even though he does not
move, he glows with movement in every
limb. As I slide by, his jeweled
eyes startle, and he scurries past
my foot, the tender fleshiness of his hide
taking the memory of love with it.
Long ago, I would have gasped
to see him near, my pulse racing;
I would have missed such beauty,
the shadowed pattern of pigment he
wears so thoughtlessly, the graceful way
he runs, undulating like a silk
scarf in a soft summer wind.
In the doorway, he stops, watching me,
wondering if I want to eat him.
Don’t be afraid, I say silently.
Let me see you for a bit longer.
I want to marvel over the mixed
colors of your iris, the iridescent
swell of reflected light, framing
this knowing miracle; the end of youth.
3 responses to “the gecko, a poem”
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Sexy. I liked it, but you know, I first saw it at Facebook and it was without the spacing. I was really drawn in, it was like James Joyce or something or Richard Brautigan but something happened when I got to WordPress here and started reading it. Well, I think, I was wondering about rhyme when I saw it unstructured. I was glad there was no rhyme but I saw that it was in a structure. Is it just my mind? Did something happen in there that changed all the outside? Was it really anything outside at all? The moment changed, I think. It was strange but I liked it. Of course, you know my insurance company uses a gecko and I guess I was half flattered by that. The gecko in their commercial has robbed the very sexy accent of Michael Caine, so I guess I was thinking of all that. A lovely thing the gecko. Rare, here. I have rarely seen a chameleon here. They are quite something.
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