DIOTIMA
we bough-limbed things
she knows my fathers' fears
i know wind & hunger,
tangle friction heat
where our cores meet
oil with sweat & sunshine
she is high yellow,
i'm high on her
hearts jitter in separation
like each other's children
while each other's mothers
we gazelle
this ripe body
bruises delicious mementos.
to carry & carry
legs pump & straighten
arch or low, test & tense
potential fall
from rest into love
from an angel to sin
a stranger calls out
a pant like this a want from the street
she or me or both? we pound on.