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Casida of a Reclining Man
To see you naked is to crave drought.
The mass extinction of ecosystems
And the inhumanity of God plagues
His most devout.
Whispers of whiskers, to suffocate,
Condemn, and defy, spitting out
Oceans of steam and below zeros,
Punching the sun to shadow your halo.
I don’t want to burst you open
But I want your sanguine taste,
Drinking the last of all mor(t)ality,
Needing to hear your lullabic wails.
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