We are mouth to mouth
like an oral tradition of desire.
You part your flesh
creating clefts and hollows
for prayers.
My hands are full of you
I keep wanting to kiss them.
I bear you like a pregnant woman.
I am a place where lips part .
Your blood is moist in my soul
where the carnage of revelation
speaks.
In Your flesh
I have a body,
a spiral shell of thirst
in that isthmus and delta
I am consumed.
