bite me

bite me, my lover, bite me
so that i may know that this
is real.

who cares for a poet
which speaks of their muse
and their love
in terms that are real
devoid of exaggeration
or flowery descriptions

her face, i adore
what more
really needs to be said

her body, i caress
what more
must be writ

her eyes, they see
her ears, they hear
her hair, waves
soft and friendly
just like she

her teeth, i need
in my flesh
to wake me from this dream
that i dreamt
where we were happy
to lie in bed late
on a sunday morning
listening to the rain
and coffee drip
before i pick up my pen
and write the pages of life

plainly spoken
devotional
inspirational
what more could be
without achieving divinity?

who really needs to live forever
when there is this moment

bite me, my lover
bite me