he lays me bare

gorgeously attenuated

not sure

that he even knows

the willowed state

in which he has rendered me

when you move through the nebula of me

you will forget what you thought you needed

as i spark your bones and glisten there

hot, bright and diffuse inside you

a shard of awareness that is in each place of you

your knowing, seeking, feeling, dreaming, broken and continuing self

now resplendent with something new

something silken and sharp and deliberate

mellifluous and devastating and

everything

that you need

quiet, soft-footed

mind elsewhere

with him

in that dreamspace of his

dark, warm

body-conscious

and spirit-heavy

where i cannot know what next he will do

what sound and sweetness he will draw from the saturated earth and air,

from me

with his mouth

his fingers

trailing my skin

making love rain

everywhere

how does he know her like that

how does he know that his possessiveness

(his hands ever-caught in her bed-tangled hair)

would excite her

the intimacy of him being right there

right there

and knowing

knowing just where

to touch her

how does he know that his fire

stoked by her is how she will know

to burn

burn fierce,

sweet and true

only for him

i mean she being me

and him being you

trains, traffic, airplanes, locusts, crickets, birds

a steady quiet breeze

my skin against my skin

falling flowers

mint on my tongue

a memory of sea salt,

black pepper and eggs

and the vulnerability of being open

this is how i am