Dust of the Earth

We approach the expanse of Earth
from our place of plenty.
Who is the girl who cautions my hand?

Will your virginity be preserved in the grave?
Will the worms of earth not devour you in sorrow
And my lust one day burn to ash?

“No!” says the creator,
This dew of youth that glistens on the skin of
imperfect animals asks only that we kiss its shine.

And by the kiss of lips and tongue still moist with life,
each pore will cry out for joining and these eternal nows
will be remembered for a thousand years by our offspring,

even as we return to the dust of earth.