A Psalm for your body

i tongue this hill                                                                                     your body   o woman
this pure ground of worship                                                                 is a journey to horeb 
 a goddess I must appease
I must wet with petals of songs
 here is  my voice    take it: 
the mower plying your sacred lawn
from your scriptures
I eat the torah of longing &
fill the desert of my bones with chapters of your dew

o woman you are genesis                                                        you are fire & rain & clouds
you are leviticus                                                                  you are the storm that cannot be
you are revelation                                                               gathered in the mouth of a brook 
everything beautiful and broken                                          teeth of a knife eating the 
                                                              poisonous bud of history                                   
even God knows: when hunger 
tickles a woman's heart when the molars in her song 
becomes the gasp of a dying bird 
silence becomes a name screeching  in the dark
these hands     your hands   are alabsters of memories
every touch     every song they make prays me into 
an altar of fresh wine     all shades of sweet-darkeness & honey
 o sweet honey      sweet shepherd of my soul    
come ferry this heart to a house filled with colours