Swallow the fields, Why don't you? You are the hunger that does not yield From the passing tides That mount a face, between your thighs. I have come to caress The bold shape of your hips, Running fingers like swimming serpents Through the ebony tresses upon your head. I wilt you When I kiss you Like straw that burns as the swollen candle. You open up Like the book that never truly closed Its pages upon the centerfold That extends your limbs in ultimate posture. I feel What I can create Of the whole being that never lasts, For more than a moment, in this spark. I kiss, As I hold A graceful shape in my loathsome grasp, As your breasts smear my lips, While your face is next to consumption, upon the list Of idle bit for consumption. I will take you beneath warmth Undergoing the dawn, As the night fills with the rays of the moon. My eyes can see so much Of you, When the dew drops off your slender arms. I breathe bliss To pass the kiss To your cheeks, And next, to your lips.