I want to eulogize you in my drafts like Anne Sexton would
the tug at the ends of your lips
the dip of your hips
steep valley of your nose
smoothened silver of your tendons
the knuckes that fit my sadness
the smeared painting of my burdundy lipstick
the smudged prinouts out of my typewriter
the aroused passion in evening tea
watch you read me poetry with switching eyes
the holy grail of your nasty rites
the slowed words of teasing rudeness

you take the whole of me
you fall in me
stay right at the bottom of my roots
learn my favourite pastries
my go to sunday lake outings
you take the whole of me
and leave me so full of freedom
the religion that falls dull
the wars, the wards, the humanity
my socialist chest forgot it's venture, it's truest nature
Who am I to resist the rawness of a gentle lover?