I am searching for shore,

I will unbury my fears in knotted contradictions.

lover, how I love those oceanic eyes. look at me,

What is there to be afraid of?

we are all cyclical streams of impermanent imperfect,

who are we 

at the end,

but lone voyagers seeking, wanting and un-wanting,

passing each other, staying a night, or two, or more,

lusting for carnal connection: your lips, neck, and thighs against mine,

more, more, more, 

tongue, neck, hands, chest, can I feel all of you, and now

stamped with you all over me,

you, you, you,

on my mind,

yet I,

feel all alone.