Your self image

Your image

And it's under the veil
of misguided antipathy,
between our bones,
in our Mother's teeth.

It is there in the chemistry
but not how we think it,
notions stripped back,
gifts from the Lords

and I could take one of them,
and then several others,
pour on hot water
until they were mush.

I could unearth them
from your anxious mind
and perhaps you'd be able
to see how I see you in mine.

See I want to take
your hips and your fingers
tender against my own,
as if we were bread.

I'd take the breadth of a tongue
and expose you to climax,
a view to an eden
where few folk have been

and I want to hold you
lost in that quiver,
feel vulnerable but never
ashamed or imposed.

Yes, I long to render
the whole of this body
to being a marvel,
a vessel,
livewire - pure skin

every sensation salubrious,
horned, unencumbered,
every moment embedded,
swallowed down with Malbec.