He felt like a kid, the vigour
And the new,
When he heard her grave voice:
That sound and soul of eternal laughter; the ciggie-made
Seeks and founds;
The before and
The after in his life
And as he felt like a kid, to his mind
Came a chant: the letters of
Her name were insanely beautiful, it’s true.
And he wanted to touch her in those ways he’d imagined, as if ownership
Over the buttons of explosion
Were dual evermore, and would tumble them down to the
Flo[o]r of their bedroom, and roll over night[ie] and rock into sex, and those texts he so needed to exchange with her brain.
And then that ranging of fingers over dear cock and balls; and awfully cool stills and momentary hills of person and people and almost religious-like steeple; and those cunt-cupping palms; and the arms that would wrap themselves around our dear bodies, at no cost …
… and if only you’d say yes, if only I could trespass.
And how I’d love to trespass on your body strong and
Long: how I’d love to trespass on
Your six and your sex.
No temptation would I resist as I kissed
Your [most] inner thoughts;
And made you cry out …
… out of sight of the others: just you and me
Transgressing so beautifully.
I do love you
And I do love you more
Than I do dare to