Monday, June 30, 2014


When his eyes lift and clasp to mine, 
when I see the ice melt and glow inside 
the candle, 
when I feel my own curved membranes 
swell and rise and fall 
and try to hide, 
when the rocky beach of skin around 
his globes folds, 
when I start to sink into the dunes, 
when they release their drug 
into my body and my body comes apart, 
a blossom whose petals shimmy off 
in a light breeze, layer after layer, 
when my petals warm the ground 
like a carpet--
that's when I can almost be the thing 
I most want to be--
one soft petal in a fragrant bud,  
a bee's lips sipping deep in my center, 
my nectar flowing, both bee and I dying, 

dying of this pleasure.