not for anything
i would move this frame of body to humor yours.
to taste your tastes. to watch your sounds lips
opening and pillowing mine
But then I nothinging in the sun
want not to move or stay
but to disappear sleep
and evaporate from porch like dew from
the grass of your bed.
You show me your holes all healed up
with flesh. I want to be it. Pick me. Wet me.
Draw me a black book. Trace and connect me,
your freckle spots,
show me you're going to make me a nest
for the windowsill, a trinket for the home
of my making my future. Show me your kiss
is going to love me, not press me,
and I'll float it in
wanting nothing.
