Jaded, moi? All this still shocks, awe still shrouds
my bones. I have traipsed while on acid trips,
stood at the edge of fens with squall-gorged clouds
rolling in and thought of you naked, hips
deep in mire. Landscapes should all have a nude
you in them. —Savagely muddy. —Vicious
with wild needs, wild need. What unabashed mood
prompts us to bare witness? Our boisterous
flesh loves the earth and sea. I love your flesh.
Greens of hills, browns of marsh, gray bog swirled;
I still adore this despite my lewd thoughts,
always lewd thoughts. Love, these storm-fresh
skies still bring joy, though I’m far from my world
of Crones and Amazons, Queens and Sexpots.