What has come to my attention is you;
so much green and the brown at a queerer angle.
Camera secretly strapped to the skin
I hide among the fuzzy trees, leaves poking out.
So you will see nothing of my brute body
and there is no reason for you to imagine
I can breathe in the tang of salt from your flesh;
sense the cumin smell of last night’s curry on your lips.
Moving softly, tight with desire
I see your shape unfold like the first-ever flower.
Your legs wide apart have a beautiful shadow
amongst the naked ferns that slowly stir and bow.
This is the moment I take off my guilt-clothes;
expose every nerve to particles of light.
Above me the infinite spirit of the forest;
Beneath me the rhythmic pulse of the earth
You and my skilful wasted art are beautiful;
More must never be enough.