When we were young our skin was brown
and made special by place and a tension
clearly empowered with the abundance of
now—a staunch ally of the young and breathless.
Made special by this place and tension
this rain must be the awkward pleasure of
now—a staunch ally of the young and feckless—
even though your heart bobs like a single buoy.
This rain must be a carnal pleasure
as I can feel it reaching toward my loins
even though your heart drifts like a buoy
to uncover that which remains its moor.
I can feel it reaching toward my loins
as I want you to want me. I want us
to discover that which remains our moor
and appear content. It is a courtesy
to want you to want me. I want us
to let it not be considered otherwise
and to appear content. It is a courtesy
that I disrobe before you and wait
and not let it be considered otherwise:
a pleasant dimness controls the consummation—
I disrobe before you and wait, humming
a quiet tune that carries no notion
of the pleasantness dimming our consummation.
When we were young our skin was brown.
We hummed a quiet tune that carried no notion
of how clearly we were empowered with abundance.
rdking