Felt a wall coming, inspiration’s body.
Like woman ready, but shaking.
Last time your hand was.
Willing to touch if I asked–heavy, wanting like that.
Victoria’s flowers on the table, I could eat them.
And I would. Would have eaten you, too, but kindly.
Victoria’s yellow laughter. Sunshine outside.
My thighs want it. Wanting like that,
to be hands on them. Yours.
Peeked lace under my own shirt. Someone should, yes.
Cathy waves her hands over poems. Speak of conversation. Christ.
I thought about saying, where. We should go
out the window. Sunshine. Let our thighs-it.
Now, speaking of the poem. The mother–
Cathy asks, About the mother. Shadowy Figure–
My identity is the field today. Body calls to grass.
Earlier, feet kissed chlorophyl. Insides toward this.
Tickle tulips–laugh until walls come
down. Mother. Body ground. Birth sunshine.
I thought go out the window. Spring skin like that.
Victoria’s flowers are staring. Breast to breast. Catch lace, swim.
4:44 pm. Wish. Made it. Same again.
My body–mother of heat.
Excitement. A Door. Smell it,
Can you. When I walk by. Spring like that.