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Wet Gold:
watch. watch how light cracks open and blooms for you;
can i be your sun before the horizon bleeds dawn?
yesterday i waded in your eye pools just long enough
to remember how water felt against my thighs.
last night i dreamed your midas lips planted golden gardens
until my shaking mouth my beating breasts my panting navel
became your gilded courtyard of Eden. yours.
how i’d love to be the wet gold staining your fingertips.
how i’d love to carve soft poems in the stone of your back.
can i be your sun before the horizon bleeds dawn?

-nao