Drought

My desert body burns for you.
Bleached bones tumble down.
Too long. Too long, this high, hard sky.
Heat hangs over my lips;
Its clear contortions writhe and vanish
With each breath. I'm cracking.
Like a mud flat in the sun.
The gila monster pulses its pebbled skin
In my mouth; the queer, tuberous cactus
Sulks in the shadows of me,
Nursing its succulence.
My fingers have withered to spines.
They claw the air for you.

Break over me, lover,
Come down on me in milk and moisture,
Drench my lips with your lips,
Open your cloud-thighs flushed with rain.
Sheathe me in humid night
And I will flower in you,
A pale, sweet burst
That curls its bloom and is gone.
Oh, the flash of your eyes
Is lightning across my sky;
Give me the storm.