Sense You by Gingerlox; Vicki P. McConnell

Sense You is a selection of poems both sensitive and stirring. In its hands, mouths and words caress unencumbered by clothes, extraneous images or hesitations.

While in these poems gingerlox is most fully sensing her lover, she is also sensing you the womon reader, evoking womon lovemaking, and encouraging us to feel our own sweetness and strengths.

In the dedication gingerlox writes:

Mazatlan Lady offered me a -prism. Looking
through, I saw angles turn on bright image, saw
all new colours of womon-loving that even fin
ally included me. Saw light break over the
shoulders of all my sisters and show us not as
strangers again. Saw my own smiles from the
inside out even before they started. She is
the hand that reached, offered, and answered.

Gingerlox's poems are about lovemaking or love poems with frequent sexual images of ocean
and flowers. They all convey the sense of touc ing and being touched. In 'Through the Flower', she sleeps by the ocean

The hammock folded into magic,
pulled me through the face of a flower
with blooms like crimson fists
that opened with a sigh
into soft fingers.

They are romantic poems with no harsh intrusions and no barriers between wimin, moon light, stars, woodwinds. New sheets are nominal barrier to your new love soft over me at the folds

Female bodies are gingerlox's more physical landscapes. Lover's lips, fingers, phrases trace skin, hair and bone, and embrace their rise and fall.

one bone at a time
my lips down your spine
your moon face rolls
underneath my chin
there is no better mantra
than your desire
your hands sliding off my bones
all bannisters and railings
that lead to inner passage
a sigh of nerves
the echo
of the love-ghost

In 'Old Bone/Future Womon', gingerlox returns with her lover to her mother's house on a Kansas hill. She wakes early, senses them both and dreams of a future womon who opening the ground for the stars to sow finds lovers' bones.
She will know
not to push the bones apart.
She will know
not to bury them again.
She will dream back to us
at twilight
after the rain
after the greening.
She will sight us:
that thicker patch of planting
where old bones feed the future.<

Rather than the title poem, I suggest you check local bookstores for a copy of Sense You or order one from [address given]. ~ Lorraine, Off Our Backs, Vol. 10, No. 9 (October 1980)