Creation's Outpouring

The desires bound within my chest  
found their crisp edges in your eyes,  
windows that glisten with light from the sky.
 
My body beats against its edges, frustrated by  
human limits. If I were spirit, I could  
enshroud all that is you in light, but I am  
flesh and seek you in this shared darkness.  
 
Thermal waters boil within me.  
Heated by the magma of creation,  
my lusts search frantic for release.  
My aching tip finds perfection in  
your presence as you move with the  
grace of a young deer approaching a  
steamy fumarole with innocent curiosity.  
 
If what these waters sought  
were holy, could my expanding canal  
stand with any greater reverence?
You fold your hands around me in a prayer of  
gratitude touching your tongue to  
the clear, salty drop of steam  
at the edge of creation’s outpouring.