the mud was trickling
in between your toes, as you blushed
behind apollo’s sun.
i heard you shriek
and then a wet tapping on the
soil, then the separation
of skin and sludge,
like a damp kiss.
muah.
i was a god with
a cup of wine in my fingers,
as i twirled and twirled
it, feeling the slow vibration
in my fingertips
and smelling grass
cut fresh
and mud that flows
like cake batter.
if all i ever heard was the
squashing of your soles
against the earth
i would be thankful.
and when you blushed like
a true penelope
i felt like i was
a man who could see the bridges
over the sun
and a man who could walk miles
just to make love with his
beloved.
if all i ever heard was the
slow, morning dirt
pulp and squeeze through your toes
i would weep
and
blind eyes can weep.
