The gleams
that bloom from
the boundaries of your
feet to the altitude of your hair
their glow multiplies in
soft husks of your beauty
though you possess
no pearls
though you are not as
apathetic as silver
you grow as the crops grow
wealthy in surplus
you stand as a monarch
majestic beside them
as ****** bread rises
so do you
I must confess
my lust
remains locked
below in the reserves
of the earth
the black waves
eager to meet
the combustion of a
match
I desire your tender
body of bread for which
I consecrate and devour
your wheat is born of the morning strands of light
whose anthems sings
as loud and high as  factories

fire instructed you
how to trust both your instinct and
your blood
you learned well of your holiness
from flour and from bread
lastly you learned
how to clearly
admit your desire even
to your heart