are we not owned
by people who need us
like legs
do we not
need them like arms

are marriages
not like towns
populated by
deep foundations and
structures almost immovable

at first
they where beautiful places
rich in florid gardens
with sweet scents
that intoxicate

and paths of communication
where built

then slowly
they became beaten paths
then beaten down paths
then dis-junctures

the flowers faded
and love
became history
and history
turned to dust
like ancient locals
ghost towns
bereft of the fragrant
brittle, parched
like dead sea scrolls

and now there is us
new
like wet drool
sultry
rich in
erotic ambitions

the far off future
be dammed
let it be
what it must be
let gravity be gravity

i want you
voluptuous fruit
big bite please