Beneath the Crescent Moon

A poem

Image courtesy of The British Library catalogue

build up of anxious arousal
i yearn for its end and its sublimation
annihilate me through and through

i don’t want to glimpse life, i want to taste it
grab it by the teeth and make love
i want the impact, want to be slammed
like a sledgehammer

i want to drive so fast i get the bends
singing too loud to the radio
hair streaming out the window
your hand on my bare thigh

i want to laugh till my belly aches
till my mouth hurts
till i’m lightheaded

i want to feel your eyes on me
as i hike up my skirt
i can feel your desire on the tip of my tongue

so carry me to the ocean
and have your way with me
beneath the crescent moon
til i forget myself

you could be a dream
with your cocker spaniel eyes
either way, i will never be satisfied
one cannot survive on pleasure alone