The scent of orchid is so confident tonight.
Swathed in it, we nearly collapse.
The half moon tries to reassure us.
It tips our love onto its brighter side.

Pleasure comes in rude little waves
and steals composure off our shy faces.
Cresting at the *******
your brown ******* slip from yourself
and into my mouth.
The insights hit like bolts,
but fade like the tide.

Do revelations have patience,
because already I have forgotten
the reciting of our scripture.
Even if you and I collect
a million rain drops tonight,
we still won't have the rain.

Still, let's do nothing different
except let out shadows
walk away together
and let the moisture
clean our flesh without hesitation.
Then we'll let it burn.
        Let the tall grasses burn,
        and our wet desires burn,
        and our bodies burn,
        and all our prayers burn.