this is madness: the place between my thighs
smoothed out like sheets, cinnamon burn for
lips, burning for glowing for starving for
two needing herons, we eye each other
across a great pond, i move, sending a single
stochastic ripple, reel like a reed, our sticklegs
the approach is slow and i touch
the water that you touch, but that is all
your radiator is uncontrollable, and this place is tropical. sunset bird is whispering, i make a meshy home in your hammock, curtains of boxers make rain. only the ceiling is glacier, invite me to your ceiling sanctum that we may investigate my itching rainbows in ice. live with me live in me, see this music like possession, cuts loose my soul until there is no north, there is no time.
this is our madness, that we need and barely touch, we make a mass of skin and feet and lips that separates so neatly. we need and a membrane of fear stands unbroken between us.
perhaps i can hold my breath as i go around