My hair is simple.
She loves tangles,
Loves entwining with me.
The canoes on the river
Are justified by the running train
Of water beneath them.
What combination of lips and skin
Can we design?
Her hands flare me with sweet sickness.
Her teeth tattoo me
With impatience.
On the river banks
The woods grow up.
Seek my mind,
Steep it in honey.
Warm my thighs.
In the river,
The dead swim among the rocks.
Her tongue on my breasts
Flicks me on like a light.
Her hand on my belly captures my breath.
Among the reeds,
A rusting locket with one picture.
Miniature Moon 