PASSION

The torrents break me from my being's banks -

How much freedom can I stand?

Shall I lose myself in the infinite ocean,

or die calmly, of hunger, in some oblivious cave

of the desire to be lost?

The slow joy your body passes to mine

between the shores of your palms,

your warmly aware palms of boundless span,

this blossom that grows with years,

blinds everything the mind has ever said.

Above the desert sands of my breathing

you spread your shelter of ocean dreaming,

and I raise to meet you, breasts, thighs, courage,

and look! I have no shape,

your dark lips meet at last

the restless sunrise of my chested star.