soft, insatiable Mouchette
my vixen with parted tail
curl me about your neck like
a red fur or opal collar
draw from this well, lid astray
your fingers dripping with spit
let me turn to suck grains of salt
from your high brow, your lashes
i bite into fields of oysters
seas as far as eye can see
and spit out beads of sand
let me hold your sapling ribs
cup the dew that forms on trees

i am no lord, no destroyer of worlds