wanting

After Chelsie Diane's on me wanting to make love to me like only i could make love to me

I WANT TO THROW HER INTO THE FIRE

Is an asterisk better than a fucking star?

Dragnet smoke cleansing

Incense paper poetry

Wild dug wisteria leaning on fresh graph

I want virgin rugs on photosynthetic carpets

Pavement burns & fountain whales & calyx & catkins

I want kites & buttered noses on a 90's field day,

I want jaws snapping at floating spheres

I want hands rooted in Elementary soil

I want her drinking a can of fifteen cent grape pop

Taught wreath, & Ruth, & Laurel

I want slipped rungs, jungle veins

I want to take my time making the perfect charcuterie board in an outdoor room of Puck & Mab & more wisteria

I want to grow the berries fertilized by the mulch of habits she's outgrown,

Then fly to Thailand for fruits, worship the trees until they ripen,

Cut my arm in Costa Rica hunting for sacred cacao

I want to fly home

Set every strawberry, strip of mango, melting drip of dark chocolate in a constellation from her birth on olive canvas

I WANT HER HUNGRY

I want to live in her for the rest of my life

Watch the arrow fall off the table

Lick the spars from the inside out

I want to pick her clean.