You lean over me,
Reaching for some product
That makes you either

Taste, feel, look or smell like
Things hanging from
Trees in warm countries, or

Nails pink, black or back to
Natural. Upper arm so
Close to my face

I can't resist
Leaning into it;
Mouth and eyelid

First. You shift in
Confirmation. I feel and
Smell; find myself

More than six feet under
This divine concept
Of Woman. Girl. Other

Half. God in Man.
Buried and blissful.
Breathing with ease in

The sweet soil that
Covers
Me.