let in let on * 10/21/13

Where there is stone,

there is a meltdown of stillness.

I am on the stone side,

wanting a taste for the melt.

Where there are tree trunks thick

and stiff solid to the ground,

there are treetops throbbing

and wanton in the wind.

I am hands of the bark,

wanting my fingers wet

within the mouth of the wind.

Where there is a deep forest floor,

there is a flesh richness

to the sensuous touch.

There, I am skin to skin,

to want all-over deep nourishment

Where you have eyes

that turn you on through words,

there is a permissive spark,

igniting your juices.

I am at the surface of future words,

wanting to be drenched

from the wash of your vision . . .