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man-child with no regard for dirt,
snuggles with the 9 PM downtown 2 express.
his hands, things that could makes sense
inside you. today you are wanted deeply,
a dark yellow earnestness, a possibility
of opening wide enough for all five fingers.
your history of wanting-- over breakfast, between
songs, in the middle of the block, looking
in the mirror, the river, waiting for a ride.
wanting too much and then
getting what you want.
her light all about, her thighs on your mother's couch,
her raw scent, scaly on the skin of your hands.
this young boy is your woman so she is here
in every part of your skin as before--
a loving so complete in leaves you woozy,
begging for stillness as you remember to inhale.
