You Ask What I Want

 

 

You ask what I want

as if we are in a doughnut store,

as if I could say:�� two glazed,

a chocolate old-fashioned,

or a jelly roll to go.

Always I am without words.

I move my mouth, say nothing.

What is this want?

 

It’s not like that, I say finally,

as if I don’t want.

Yet I do.

I go away empty,

the vacuum sucking at me.

I’m hungry to put voice to this void

and still the words won’t come….

 

I want

to see the bottoms of your eyes

looking into mine

beyond all images

beyond all history

beyond all wishes

beyond all hopes.

 

I want to feel

all of your connection to me

in the tips of your fingers

in the texture of your mouth

in the flow of your breath

in the pulse of your blood.

 

I want to be with you

all the way up the mountain

and all the way down the other side.

 

I want to touch you

spirit to spirit

aura to aura

just to feel the colors mix and swirl.

 

If you are with me, I will feel it.

If you love me, I will feel it.

If you run away, I will feel that too.

The body never lies,

that’s what makes sex so vulnerable.

 

Don’t you know?