I want to run
free in the jungle
that wild grows,
find the burrow
that hidden lies
between your thighs;
I want to sink
and sweetness drink
from that secret
spring — that freshet
of divine dew,
bewitching brew;
to make the round
up rising mound
(holy belly),
explore valley
between proud peaks
crowned; to seek
comfort of sheath,
warmth wreath’d:
I want to turn
you over, yearn
to have life swoon
between twin moons
of a new earth:
of a fresh birth —
