in collaboration with Sonja Smolec
You drag me up the crumbling slope with promises of dawn,
The clover clinging to your heels with mettle’s wayward brawn,
You slip and almost feed your flesh down mountain’s deep ravine
To pick a beetle’s heedless shape asleep inside the green
While I just bask in graceful thighs and lust of times foregone...
our fingers knotted, like the sprouting roots of young oak
suckling mother soil’s moisture,
your eyes... birds finding refuge in the nest of mine, chirping,
the green of forest whispering, telling us tales of a sun
fallen asleep upon the wide glade and burning in its own warmth.
Your fingers dress my aching wrist in petals freshly born
And pollen culled at tip of nose from morning-glory’s horn,
A swiping move, the blanket floats at home with summer’s weeds
The basket rolls and cherries squash amongst the raining seeds,
Your eyes for moments tensely long regard the sun with scorn...
my whisper slides down your chest,
a deep sigh of joy flutters away as I embrace your waist,
my skin brittle like an egg's shell
and my bones soft like spring’s soil soaked a chilly brook’s life
and washed clean with the sweet smell of grass.
You shriek entranced into my ears and roll inside the cloth
To muffled sounds of popping fruit along your body’s swath,
The splashing stains of seeping red infest your linen’s white
Your peeling skirts bedash my eye a virgin’s night delight
And flames escape your flaring nose to die in bubbling froth...
lips hungrily engorge the wells’ boiling magma
collected from your reluctant mouth and cupped palms
and I feel the soggy blanket pouring its unfermented wine
deep inside my body’s creases and crevices
as drunken birds drop and fall all around us.
A vixen’s sudden raging fit assails your thrusting hips,
Your fingers curl to sickle’s blade and flail in roving sweeps
To shear your whites and shear my skins and grope for fire’s trail
Then guide my lust inside your lust and set a burning sail
As cherries bellow in the storm devouring our lips...
a mouths’ symphony of exploding seeds and sputtering juice
as hungry teeth slash through hungry tongues
and your hand, that silent vagabond,
finds shelter in the shade of my awakened bosom
while furious bush fires desecrate my love enflamed valley.
You lie asleep inside my arms, imprisoning my waist,
The liquid drops of early sun inside your eyes encased,
I braid the cherries’ broken stems with strands of sizzling hair
And write my mind beneath your skin with finger’s stinging flare
While love’s perfumes bestride the breeze and wane in wistful haste...
as the tips of your fingers swathe my tender patches of flesh
I sink my head in your stomach’s folds looking there for fragments
of the earlier ferocious me,
and of hunting you,
and of sun.
