I don't just want to be made;
I want to be remade by you.
I want to be unrecognizable
with a peculiar smile,
explosive, unexpected:
a candid spark of that secret pleasure.
I want to be all nerves,
desperate, shivering, raw
in the melted snow, exposed
and thawed, rubber warm
and oddly pleasing.
I want sliding eyes, electric;
I want words unspoken
felt like a steady, patient pulse.
I want the candles on the
grocery store shelves to leave
me briefly possessed by memory:
a kiss on the cheek like a habit in a hurry,
an instant frozen in time.
I want to stop breathing
so you have to remind me:
I want my heart, in syncopation,
to skip its beats and leap for yours.

Your toes, a careless addition
to your bare feet, mystify me:
that they can be so nonchalant
and graceless in such miraculous proximity.
All of it is perplexing;
all of it burns like the courage of a vigilante;
And I want to be devoured.