Let you lie out wide as a bay of wheat, let my mouth run
through the gleaming. Footprints, bruises, the earth
takes its small breath in my leave. My love reaches
my body through the open windows, my love asks again
what do you need, as if to say I can just keep
needing. We borrow each other. I fold your ear
where I want to remember. Our breath visible & audible
above the bed. The cold another touch
we give ourselves to. In the morning, I walk through the bristle
& pinch names for you, lay them to dry on the bedside table,
angel, baby, my good girl. Sometimes I step outside myself
when I’m alone & become your eyes
on me. Sometimes I believe I am only a boy
when beautiful. Anew, I leave my image lovingly
to wild. My body, too, in its turn, wilding. I
hold a soft power. I turn it leisurely in my hands.
I wasn’t yet I was: angling myself
to you. The two meet
perpendicular: gender & desire. Pull you
by the hair. Pull you by the root. Laugh
against each other’s mouths. There
you are, aflight under the open
wingspan of my fingers, how I hover,
how I harvest, how I
take as much as I can hold.