Katherine Riegel, American poet.
DIRECTIONS
Katherine Riegel
After the kisses that swell my lips
and tongue, after the fingertips circling
my nipple like water
circling the drain, coming nearer
and nearer to the center, that sucking
sound, after the push
that sends my shoulders onto the bed
and my knees open to his hand,
I can still say gentle and his finger lifts,
touches light as a moth. His breath
is heavy and his teeth
graze my clavicle but he listens
with his whole body, he touches
soft until I am slick and then
he keeps touching soft because
that is what I want and — miraculous
as gravity — what he wants
is to give to me
and give to me
and give to me.