| Moons Hungry I wonder, would The Rings feel Wounded, were I to jeopardize Tears to steal such a saucy planet; to Give to you, a babe, not the hot- Flesh of my dreams awake, beading With sweat, but the simple-sad flower Eyes seizing, great, your truer depth� A babe of wonder in need of rest. How you beg be scenario-placed, Some field of green full with poppies, And sunlit after love-making in rain; The gentle kind that spoils no morning, Save influence deepness of a kiss. And would you be chapfallen if I held no such visions of beauty In the moon-spliced linings of My thoughts? For I would wish to Cradle you against my cheek On some yet-discovered isle, or even Amongst the fog-backed shadows of Romania on a full-silhouette night; Long enough to spare a momentary sigh While I slip Saturn on your finger, Fragile, to see it dull �neath the bright Love-raged palpitations of your eyes As you taste my breath against the just- Opened surprise of your sugar-rain And stow-away lined lips, making Moons hungry to possess clairvoyance. For K, always. Todd K. Bush � 2004 |