desire

with wildness
I seek you
as animals follow scent
unfulfilled
until the sighting
unsatisfied
until the tasting
of flesh
your soft lip
in mine
loin warms to feel
of wrapping
plunging
soft wet tongue
searches out
all tenderness
and pink places
how could we
even talk this
day
when desire
leadens my eyes
and slackens my limbs
when wetness
spreads through me
from your naked eyes
how could we
even talk this
day


Beth McCarthy Marks
1993