sins of the map-maker

I know your curves.
I learned them the best way possible.
by touch and by taste.
with time and with hunger.
deliberate and slow.
swift and sure.

I mapped the contours of your body with intent and your curves remember me well; strong hands and parted lips left landmarks.

I left my poetry between your thighs and my scent upon your skin.

you are known, but not discovered; there are secrets left in the cleft of your thighs, and the rising rhythm of your breathe.

I know your curves.

But I want to know them better.

unambigous altar

prey.

one word.

one unambiguous word.

prey.

you, prey.

I. Prey.

one word.

a universe of intentions.

I prey, but entwined with

I desire.

you – prey, but entwined with

fierce, singular, selfhood.

I prey on your raised

selfhood.

(bared ass, all fours, caught, defile, devoured)

you – prey, of a mind, of a moment.

of surrender.

somewhere in the middle.

we prey together.

capsize

you are my vessel
meant
for drowning

i fill you with
the way your leg looks
hooked over the edge of the tub

the droplets that gather
in concave and curve
tiny mirrors shaped
by your breasts

until
the weight of my regard
tips you over