Consumed Take me as the sun rises night spent in conversation your voice husky with cigarettes and lust feathers touch my eyes stroke my lips as you kiss my chest, neck, touch my cheek. I feel every move your slick body makes against mine. By morning light and cockcrow I can take in your form offer myself to your eyes without judgment or comparison but later, dream. I will think of you forever.   For You For you I would walk across mountains and score my feet with stones For you I would ask forgiveness and plead the case of the bourgeois For you I would become the hermit and take up the reed recorder For you I would cast aside my sun-clothing and don the cloak of reason For you I would become the businessman and play with numbers all day For you I would ask for a house in suburbia with daffodils For you I would walk across the street for a quart of milk I Have Once Kissed You “Van Gogh once kissed a cypress tree, and I have once kissed you.”–Hayden Carruth, “Sonnet #1 (1979)” Your throat a sweet breath of cigarette and wine. I hold [...]