Desire

if I could trim lines 
texture words 
savor each syllable 
perhaps 
all the passion that erupts 
from my breasts 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