Month: December 2011

receive her king

tonight i want you;
i want to lure you and those let-me eyes
to the swirl of the blanket amid which
you have taken me so many times. i want
to swallow your kiss, to eat your moans

so i swell with you and with my longing. tonight
i want to dig the rolling fields of your back–
fuck finding china, i want to reach bone
and carve my full name there. your hands
know my hipbones and my lips know yours:
let us reacquaint them. let me pull you into me
as far as you’ll go, farther still– let me devour you
until i hold you whole and ubiquitous inside my skin.
i want to surround you and pull tight like the cords
on those lovely bags of crown, all that gold satin thread
and secrets. tattoo me with your teeth,

tell every tongue and fingertip that trespasses here:
this is my territory. i will be your continent to rule,
your raucous ocean, your mute and malleable earth
to till. i will be your lone tree, erect and proud
as the curious creature between your thighs.

tonight, i am calling out to you: here i am.
have me. i am waiting.

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mon corps chant ton nom

i am composed of trillions of atoms
and tonight my body performed its song
of you– its vibrating symphony humming,
humming, humming your presence,
sighing your proximity, whispering
your existence. i was a mute chorus
of wanting you. every nerve and sinew
shivered with the exhilaration of passing messages
from brain to trembling limb, to fingertips
ecstatic to map your contours.

your skin, i have told you, is impossible,
and tonight my hands achieved that mission– my hands
cradled the great weight of you, caressed
so much satinlike glory, savored the tips
of your facial hair, smoothed your mustache
and swooned with the fullness of your lips.

i came home to find between my legs
a warmth as wet, as slick and fertile velvet
as the red night through which we rode,
all that rain reminding me of fantasies
i have not confessed. remembering
in the store how i moaned under my breath
looking at you– how i tensed in the car
as you fellated my finger– how i could have cried
watching your jet lashes shimmer in all that rainlight,
knowing you were awake with my desire beneath you
and how you unwittingly reduced my vocabulary
to oh god, oh god, oh please, oh yes
without touching me–

i will sleep hungry tonight,
wondering if in your bed
three turns, three streets and two doors away
you are starving, too, with me.