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“Ode to My Desire I have always been hungry; fingers dipped in sugar, salt across my lips. Four children have passed through my body and still here I am, asking for your hands on my hips, voice in my ear. For melon and honey cream. For you to not make love to me. Take me— but wait until I plead. There is nothing like the impatient thrum of wanting. All legs and foaming mouth. In hallways I play a game called 'kissing,' imagining every woman as a lover, every man with his mouth on mine. How different they must look when they are in heat.” — Kate Baer
Ode to My Desire
I have always been hungry; fingers dipped
in sugar, salt across my lips. Four children
have passed through my body and still here
I am, asking for your hands on my hips,
voice in my ear. For melon and honey cream.
For you to not make love to me. Take me—
but wait until I plead. There is nothing like
the impatient thrum of wanting. All legs
and foaming mouth.
In hallways I play a game called 'kissing,'
imagining every woman as a lover, every man
with his mouth on mine. How different
they must look when they are in heat.