coyly, oh captain of mine,
you glance at me over the
soft curve of your shoulder,
and my mouth fills with saliva

i am a pirate, down to his
last dregs of ***

and i am a cowboy, dying of
a thirst in the desert that only
you can slake

and i am a bard, whose lute strings
have all been snapped by his own hand

to put it real bluntly here,
i am ******* starving

and there are so many ways,
to starve and be starved in turn

it is your touch that i yearn for,
tenderly on my cheek,
and ****** in the collar of my jacket

let’s curl around each other,
just this once,
share some body heat and a
six pack of cheap beers

and if i asked really nicely,
batted my eyelashes up at you
just so, would you let me
carry a piece of you with me?

let me sink my chipped and crooked
teeth in to that junction of shoulder
and throat, right above your collar bones

and we can pretend that your red,
red blood
on my teeth is a construction paper
valentine that i hand to you and
then shyly glance away