—ALL I DO IS WRITE ABOUT IT

                                         What I Was Thinking

                                                    3 erotics

home

my tongue is

too comfortable

nestled in this

particular fold

or in that other

savory crease

that no one’s

seen since childbirth

or maybe my

tongue is a

muscular yawn

breaching your first

flank then the next

a body without borders

no prepping sand bags

for the oncoming

breach and flood

of you

my tongue is a slither

a sudden shudder

delirious soldier

my tongue is not

yet ready to drown

until it reaches

the final trench and drench

of you

where light breaks through

even in the dimmest water

as the oceans swell

calling us home

You Have Arrived at Your Destination

I take the drive-thru between your legs, find both lanes, shift, accelerate till I’m almost there, and you are, too.

affluence

i want to feel

the poverty of your skin

shedding in time with mine

monetize your fingers

with a mouth split

open like a too-ripe plum

or sunburst moon

pawn your shoulders

and all ten toes

for a foamy fortune

lick your spine and

breast bone with millions

use a card-less ATM

to pay off every

loan and needless debt

put all we own

on 12 and 9 red

thrust just not to thrust

brush your destitute

hair across my face

write a personalized

check along your

splotchy ridges

swallow your lottery ticket

fill your lungs with a

flurry of iou’s you’ll

never need to claim

when the roulette

ball stops spinning

and you’re that filthy

that fucking

whole and rich