THERE IS THE POINT OF GREETING

There is the point of greeting: joy and pain

There is the point of greeting.

Still so many points of meeting we know so little about. 

Flames in fingertips, in hand's palm;

Flames at elbow, shoulder, rib, navel,

flames at toes.

Free flames, the hairs on your thigh-flames

tickling my smooth-skinned legs.

But I crave your blue flame eyes

I am hungry to see them

Your smoke places and corridors

Empty banquet halls and the music room

and the skies of your loving me.

The shyness of your longing

Your tremulous yes peering out from the layers of cardboard

where you have slept outside my heart

Will you bring your head down and empty your mouth to look at me?

Will you spread your arms wide, notebook of holy writ, to be read by me?

Chomp and be chewed, "alleluia"?

I want so much from you,

all you have.