I am harried by your eyes,
As I rub mine, tired and late,
Longing for their lidded bedspread.
I am goaded by that soft pout, that parting...

I cannot sleep,
I cannot sleep, though I need to.
The abacus of order is broken,
I skate and stumble, I grope on the floor
For scattering beads, head cracking,
The undersides of tables: Shin smart and toe stub.
A mutiny is whispering up from deep in the hold.
A spirit of the bilge takes a club
To the finer instruments:
Cable parting, cord ripping.

That sideways dusky glance
Branded on my mind eye.
The distilled essence of everything I could want
Or wish for,
Contained in that wet cosmos.
I become a singular form of steel attention:
Instantaneous, fusion heavy,
Thunder struck to the rare
Magnet of your erotic core.

At the table head you are throned,
Light seems to elevate you,
Well held, arranged and poised.
My lips are brought to table by glistening slaves,
To the clarion of gilded trumpets
On a vast ornate salver,
Bedded in split and watering fruits,
Bathed in honey and milk and sweetened oils.
They wait. I wait,
You cast a look that devastates time-space.

I yield to your dark weapon:
A lunar voodoo, some female art.
I give myself over to the plunging vortex,
Gulping the viscous musk,
As I fall far beneath hunger,
Greedy for the amniotic ark.
My loins rage and clatter, butt close the fetid walls.
Deep in the well, of my animal root.
Guttering flusty and drooling,
A rabid yammering frenzy.

My heart is a hundred drums,
The morning a symphony of pain and separation.
The seed of the evening lies still,
Unsown,
In the purse of your consent.