meandering the chorus of his scent, i am lost
between the steeple of his belly
and his mouth

i wander. consuming his pleasure  with teeth,
softly, as though he were a baby bird.


i worship the sunrise in his neck. on all fours,
i pray that the sun sets between us
beautifully. maybe in another life, we

could be a temple of a shared two bodies,
twilight after twilight, upright, hand in hand.

but as it is, tonguing the canyons, the valleys
the napes, and the summits
       his mouth
becomes melody. singing without words
that he will encapsulate me. wholly

much like a tremendous hunter. but gently,
with purpose alight, we surrender. together,

shared steeples above our carnage, heaving.
the doorway to mutual softness   open

Off the weir where the water runs fast and the danger is near to the surface,
watching as fish out of water choke for a chance to get further upstream and
I envied their trials

sometimes I swim to the island and lay looking up at the blue sky, being warmed by the June sun until dry
and at other times I drift out to sea.

'jump off the aqueduct and you're ******'
that's what they told me, but I jumped off it
anyway.

Salmon we lads poached to cook over the coals
and all of them goals that we set
which was like walking on water and not
getting wet,
but we thought we were Jesus
back then.

Poetry
to me
is taking
my pain
and making
it sing.