There, you have found it,
the heart's vague push set to music
thin as a christening bell, wide
as a body of water, Dear Flesh, I just wrote
to say will you touch me in that same
decisive way, the knowledge
rude and yet. It is the longest window
filled with clear glass, and as it pulls
a thin blank shade,
it gleams and this long leg lifts,
my darling, see the stretch as muscle
begs for your Dear Flesh,
I want all body, all, and all
the scent she said, and all the trees at once
let down their leaves and skin dissolved
like it was weather, lessening, and it was
cool and fall inside the room.
In this ritual of the world's limbs,
inelegant and rough but overwhelmed,
it was mere touch as sweet as deep green grass
at night, the eight o'clock of it,
the thin dream full of leg,
descending whim of the natural world
as a blanket on the bed
oh love,
in how my waist gives up to you,
this vast wandering, its cool and swift extravagance,
touch me again.
