Your Body as Passage

 When the summer presses

The hard callous of my hands

You soft come on me

The opposite being who

I am mute to love

Afraid of wanting too much

Afraid of desire

You burn the hot fire which purifies

The fan feeding the acorn shell

Of my sex

Then I want you free of desire

As pure air circulates

The lyric truth of breath

That is that love making

Me hard and harder I crack

And disappear in you

And you into me

Then we are passages to each other.

Having come this far

You are so open to yourself

Have disappeared.

I am left stained by the strain of desire

I cannot surrender

Which binds the body in knots

For the certainty of loss is more becoming

Than this attitude of nothingness.

It has no physical coordinates

But beckons to me in dreams

And is the longing of all angels to be.