By HONOR MOORE
Of sheets and skin and fur of him,
bed of ground and river, of land,
or tongue, of arms, the wanton field,
of flame and flowers, stalk of him,
harp, arboreal, steep and rush.
House him in the coil of my hair,
silk of him and open sea, flood, star,
toes of him, stickiness, of flesh.
Rind of him, gaze, of salt and heat,
face, food and blade, island in bright
bloom, bristle, blossom, all this night
lie long with him as dark flies fleet.
Transparent, filled up, emptied out,
here of him, here I find his mouth.
Honor Moore is the author of three collections of poetry, Red Shoes, Darling, and Memoir.