poem #0827

Ankles and legs, ankles and legs

Twisting and sliding unto the sky

Not one whoever sought to beg

But now I do and I do not lie

 

Wrists and arms, wrists and arms

Sated with almost any touch

A prisoner now to all her charm

And oh her charm can do so much

 

Hearts and heads, hearts and heads

Mixing and spilling in harmony

3000 or more between two beds

And here we sit so patiently