if I could trim lines
texture words
savor each syllable
perhaps
all the passion that erupts
from my ******* would subside
waves would cease their capsizing
sunsets wouldn't hurt my eyes
with their unmistakable beauty

if I could taste the ink-bed
beforehand would sensations
arouse this page instead of my hips
and mind with midnight lips that kiss
each pondering in unbearable sighs
I want to expel this tempest
in gaslit pages
that burn and burn and  
BURN inside

til your hands clutch
these feelings
enmeshed in ecstasy
the splendorous ache of
wanting craving
love's euphoric madness
so much
that only words
cup your face
graze your lips
spoon your soul