lioness.

is there more?
i am always wanting there to be more.
he said, heaven isn't heaven unless you know him,
love him, recognize him.
is there more than the simple brush
of your hand across my cheeks
when rivers run tributaries down my face?
i want you in me.

(i don't say such things to be provocative or see your dismay, i'm tired of that.)

i'd just rather be boundless,
sinking into the depths of infinity
and allow you to traverse the
caverns of my veins.

perhaps it's why i'm always running.
fill me up on your love, and then his, and then his.
keep hitting me until it satisfies and
i cannot fall asleep
because electricity is still shocking my nerves.

my legs will leap around continents,
toes skimming the strait of gibraltar,
my hands weaving baskets in
the wheat fields of ohio.
i could keep going, keep searching.
there must be more that could feed this lion.
yes, i am a lion.

i hear her roaring, hours, minutes past midnight
when the beasts come out.
i hear her roaring for perfection, for more.
insatiable hunger for a beautiful thing called love.