i wish i could share
a blood-truth
with every soul
who forges a bond through my eyes.

(the truth is, i am afraid,
so i separate and stumble.)

there is longing, more ancient
than tree roots,
a(n underground) river that nourishes an ocean.
this human shell barely contains
the passion that is foreign
to this soil.

(i do not ask for aid,
only understanding. again.)

(yet, understanding is a flower of trust,
and we do not possess a graceful vulnerability,
you and i.)

my tongue is fat with eagerness and
covert glances. a juxtaposition that sits
awkwardly and un-pretty. i wish i could
undress before your eyes
and let the light feed the created caves
and meld the fissures.
yet, i do not. something breaks when
i drop my eyes to the floor and forget.

(i want to say, "touch me",
and have you divinely
mate with me. a sensual and stirring emotionality
uncomplicated by a foreign world.)

(but) there are rules
and i am illiterate in their distaste
for the strangers that exist
within human skin.

that is me. (and sometimes you.)