With each curve of my pen
your desire falls wet and burning
upon the aching paper,
moaning and sighing poems,
serpentine limbs writhing and twirling,
uncontrollably exploding into stars
scattered in the empty heaven.
I harness you, love,
like the silent full moon
harnesses the stars
and writes them into the earth’s womb,
into the warm dreams of lovers.
I write you and harness you, my own.