All the Ways

In the afternoon
everyone’s mind wanders off,
sometimes scanning an empty street
to see a familiar face or car
only to end up rummaging through
the pantry of emotional jam
for just the right flavor
on just the right
kind of toast with tea.

Taste the sweetness
just inside the mouth of memory
and you will know the bitterness
of this much longing
like the Buddha
eating a few grains of rice
on the last days before
enlightenment.

Tomorrow you will come to me
like you did the last time
and hold me
before I fall,
too weak to stand
alone in my desire.
Here it will be known
that the human body
can be moved to great courage
for a single act of unconditional love.

Hold my face in your hands.
Place your hands on the small of my aching back.
Rub my weary temples.
Stoke my curls damp with night
and foggy with sleep
and dreaming
of all the ways
I want you.