JOHN RICHARDSON | SURREALIST
Mrs X
Mrs X
You do not have to try to seduce me
As I am already completely yours
I believe in the great meta-narrative of our Love
You cause an unrelenting current of Desire
To electrify my body and spark my imagination
You seduce me each and every day
Like a swallow in flight
Like a fish in flames
Like the night stars which make up your profile
Like Maria Callas’ voice frozen for eternity in an icicle
Like tumbling dice falling from the hand of a passing priest
Like water cascading down a lone petrified pine tree in a city square
Like the erotic blue eyed sun girl in the lizard white heat of El Cottillo
Like the glimpse of a black lace stocking top against a white thigh
Like the murmur of a 1,000 tongues in a secluded wood who speak of our Love
Like the crash of a great wave in a delicate china cup
Like the flash of lightning which cannot be seen
Like the black nightingale sitting on your shoulder
Like the footprints left by your shadow on a moonlit night
Like the exquisite colours of Rimbaud’s Vowels
Like poetry written in the mist on a windowpane
Like the dream of forbidden Love made real
Like asking you to marry me through the lines of a poem written for lovers’ day
February 2003