This poem was previously published in Throats to the Sky Magazine several years ago. The publisher for my upcoming poetry collection that'll be out in the fall only accepted manuscript submissions that didn't include previously published work so, this one's not in the collection - though I do think it would otherwise fit :)
Rut
My knees in the groove of the rock
uncomfortable, but not. While we hiked, the midday sun left me sweating
and slick with myself. Now in the shade, in the grooves, on the rock slick with something more - more with you,
more with wanting;
I think this is what they mean when they call it
"rutting."
If ever i was an animal
It's here, it's now - there is no mind left in me, only
wanting
The wanting of sweat on sweat and sun on skin, and skin on skin - bare skin, bear skin,
honey, we are the animals
and there is a creature in me I don't know. It wants to taste your salt
it wants your bruise on my skin. Honey, don't hold me like Im fragile -
fuck me like you know I won't break. Grind our bodies into the stone like mortar and pestle,
press ourselves for juices, for pulp. Rock my knees in the groove, let's grind the stone down to dust
let's leave my knees raw in the dirt.
