after Federico Garcia Lorca
All men want you.
Your hand on my thigh.
The candle flickering.
The curtains billowing full,
Breathing yellow shadows.
Your hair cascading
In fields, perfume, and silk.
Long, brown.
All men want you.
All men want you.
In your eyes there are the miles
I will travel someday.
Smokey, far.
I will travel distant countries
Following routes my kisses
Have traced over maps of your body.
All men want you.
All men want you.
In the evenings,
You put on sunsets of garments.
Purple clouds, new moon.
You ballet petals of light.
Golden tassels, brushstrokes of sky.
There are birds and trees.
The sing and sway in the morning.
There are miracles and wind.
All men want you.
All men want you.
Your breasts, your lips, your eyes.
Your hand on my thigh.
There are the miles
I will travel someday.
Breathe softly beside me.
Evenings, mornings.
All men want you.
