Hot and Wet

a beautiful outlaw for “wet”

I can’t explain—you simply
encourage moisture. No resistance,
little friction, your gaze an easy starter
before your tongue. Even as you demand
nothing more than consent, a quick kiss,
I turn jelly—and you have yet
to touch me. Give me more—

to say I want you isn’t a faux option,
but isn’t a right justification.

You play slowly, my body now liquid,
hardly solid for so long, lick and savor
my skin until too buzzing, too shaky. 

I become explosive residue, climax and orgasm,
flame and oxygen feeding. Who are you,
device for my undoing, mechanism of my mania
unfolding? Who made you musician,
me piano, you preacher, me choir, you Handel,
me Messiah? I quivering lake, no longer frozen over.

I wine uncorked, all shiver and spill. I praise,
I joie de vivre, I hallelujah and amen
and alhamdulillah and aria and psalm and gracias
and danke and merci and glory, glory, yes.