The Writers' Circle

I'm dying -
I need your body heat.

I want
to drag my aching breasts
down your stomach;
I will count your ribs
with my nipples.

And your hands
will know my skin;
and your hands
will be my hands;
and you will feel me
like I feel myself.

Want me like I want you -
I'm dying.

When I lay outside,
I lay naked;
and when you didn't see me but other men did,
I thought of you
and struggled to stay sane