On a Night of the Full Moon

     I

Out of my flesh that hungers

and my mouth that knows

comes the shape I am seeking

for reason.

The curve of your waiting body

fits my waiting hand

your breasts warn as sunlight

your lips quick as young birds

between your thigs the sweet

sharp taste of limes.

 

Thus I hold you

frank in my heart’s eye

in my skin’s knowing

as my fingers conceive your flesh

I feel your stomach

moving against me.

 

Before the moon wanes again

we shall come together

 

II

And I would be the moon

spoken over your beckoning flesh

breaking against reservations

beaching thought

my hands at your high tide

over and under inside you

and the passing of hungers

attended, forgotten.

 

 

Darkly risen

the moon speaks

my eyes

judging your roundness

delightful.

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