drain down limbs, clean, unforgivable.

devised platter turned back

I want space, the empty space.

hiding in the blue cotton,

world spins without

my soft brush of night pastels

canvas lover word lamenting into a burning body

that will not remain dead

I try to keep it hidden

brown skin keeps pricking goose flesh

ready like thanksgiving, oven, oven, 
mouth lips i am ready

and,

when salvation comes like fresh linen

waving in the sun
it carries my own whisper,
traced by the rumble of you.

i am dieing for touch.

i am dieing from touch

i am hiding from touch

i am terrified.

put your inky hands on me anyway.

and touch me whole.

and I will bring the reckoning

of fire from centuries denied
from limbs to lips to legs to 
the undeniable desire of 
a Woman's need

that will break you pleased a thousand pieces
over this challenge
I call 
the shattering of me
and this terrible, terrible fear.