I give to you the taste of cinnamon; flesh, blood and bone,
so that you may own and devour my body;
I give you the sight of me, nude, vulnerable, nothing but yours.
Snatch from me the sweat which passes from your brow to mine,
take from me the aroma of dirty sheets, wear it like perfume,
or in a bottle around your throat,
and take the soft touch of wet lips on a white neck;
I can give you the sound of my beating heart so that you can listen to my love,
the ticking of a clock so you can keep me –
the battery won’t die.
I will give you the touch of my gooey heart,
if you let the pulsating mess stick to your fingertips and never wash it away.
Steal from me and share the intensity of the collision,
my hip bone on your hip bone,
Capture me and though I may feebly protest,
take the knowledge that I will always gladly
Included in the Cheval Anthology 2012.