Do everything you do to me
gently. Make my throat fat
and full with you, and easy. Make
me mouth your praises. Please
some graciousness from this trembling.
You: a gulp. You: a gaunt get.
Do everything you do
to me so I will miss you tomorrow.
You: a grant given, a guile, a guilt.
Oh goodness, some false fawning.
If you leave me, leave me
low and lowing, leave me after
the gloaming. Oh gracious,
oh white carnation bloom
in winter. You: the crown incarnate,
crowing my insides out.
Do everything to me
but gently. This craven gut I cannot
gather, jaded until gussy.
Give me back my pirouetted wail and wait
a bit; I deserve at least that.