the wild beasts -
I want for nothing
except your hands
on my skin
and my feet in the mud.
All your colours of
grass stains and bruises
and dandelion freckles
pressed against white scars
and dirty fingernails.
We cannot be hurt
by the fighting
of birds and bees,
we cannot be hurt
by sins like these.
I would rather be
torn to pieces and
left in your arms
than not know the feeling
of salt water waves
and pokenoboy spines.