The Angle of Your Desire

I lean into you
feeling the angle of your desire
sensuality
like flowers dripping with dew
What you are has given me innumerable gifts
the greatest is a desire that becomes vapor-like
shakes me to my core
reinvents me
recreates me
Osiris-like
seeking that lost portion
and finding All

Let my body be the temple
of desire
rich and abundant
driving like rain
slicker than lightening
and unstoppable
yet incredibly yielding.

My hands could become like thousands
of sensors
or I could be as reserved as a boy in sunday school.
If I could be near you
achingly close
yet proper and understated
I would still place my foot next to yours
underneath the table
and feel my insides pull you into me
like water through a gorge
or a lover laughing in a meadow.
My hands, like the earth,
feeling every inch of your stretching self
as I pay homage to your beauty
to your watery soul
dreaming in boundlesness
awakening pregnant
with possibility
so willing to be taken
or given
or whispered just upon my lips
as you slip through my hands
as I feel you rush through.

We fertile ones,
our bodies become one with rock leaf and star
mysteries propagate in the clutch of our
presence
as my gaze penetrates
and your smile gives birth to worlds
as simple as our essence made one
or many.