Let's see what happens when I throw sex--particularly penetration--around. Let me know what you think, and feel free to suggest line edits, a new title, online dating, or deep spiritual guidance.
The Osmosis of Desire
My body contains many stories,
A refrigerated trailer truckload of mythos.
The language of my body
Sung out in eruptions,
Pit sweat and heart palpitations.
I do not write new myths of longing.
I am not the first to want things I don't have
But I admit to it,
The osmosis of desire,
Longing at the molecular level.
This is what I talk about when I talk about love:
Parts of you in me,
Plasma united, cell walls suctioned,
A strand of your hair in my mouth.
I bathed with a lover's soap weeks after he'd gone,
Switched to his cologne,
Hoping pieces of his body would be sucked up by mine.
I love your sleek jawline and understated laugh,
Like bluebird wing flaps.
I can make you smile,
Make the muscles in your face maneuver beneath your skin
Inside you, a piece of me,
My wit, desire down past the tissues,
Soaked through the skull.
Me shot through your brain.
Deeply, I affect you.