More! More! More! Bring down your miraculous mouth over mine and make me green to the throat. Make me plush velvet to the breast. Leave a kiss at the base of me, at the broken axle where the blood spins ’round. Kiss me where you can with hot kisses you have saved up, soaked through your weeping body in nights of longing — kisses caught in you — captured like shoals of struggling fish desperate to get out and melt at my mouth, to be immolated by the heat of having me. Save up for me those kisses I save for you and we will let them, like a horde of crimson warriors, destroy one another. Then we will be locked together — share the same bone of pleasure, the same ache of fulfillment, to ease, afterwards, the soft words out of us, all stored up and unspeakable for so long. And let us keep kissing even then, like animals who have fainted by the water and unconsciously lap there, long past satisfaction, till we are brimming over with each other, aching with intense pleasure.