Baby, let your hair grow out
to tangle me into your body;
spread your fingers over my sex
and pull my soul into your web
of kindness and safety in moist warmth.
Baby, let your eyes see soft edges
free from harsh contemporary distinctions
between the circle and the square
where we are not separated
by the space between atoms.
Baby, let our bodies rot in place;
this sordid world is not our dream
electrified into being by Love
for all that you are:
Your Hair, Your Eyes, Your Hips and Hands;
Baby – be the love we make.
1 thought on “Made Love”
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Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone write poetry for/about me. I love coming here to read your stuff.