At my side, my love,
my only love, my right-hand side,
dark drive, dark lone love room,
these streetlights all a-furr
with our failing sight.
For you, a folded blanket,
my love, for your bum,
my only love, your only bum,
How cold, how cold
the windows feel!
White picket fence. Hospital on hill.
Civilization rises in my pocket,
love, to point to home,
our only home, my love,
so near health care. So civilized.
Had we but cave enough, and time,
a little hole in the world,
come-hither fire flickering:
nary a smidge of history,
love, nor the comrade of a smidge!
We’re on our way to – let’s say,
my extra starlet, leading wife –
the set of our new sex-and-sand flick.
To lick our stuff, magic saws,
these tongues, to rip and heal
each other, dumb strong
curious muscles of love,
rooted in spit, blind to light,
fuses, our only ones,
your only fuse, and mine.