Between her thighs, wide
and red as Arizona, like the bright sands
of the Painted Desert.
Her light is disguised as lips
and the inside of lips.
He prospects there, sifting through every grain of sand
like gold might be there, hiding inside gold.
His index finger reaches so far inside her,
ancient sunsets and solar ceremonies stick
to the palm of his hand.
He travels in the company of thirst.
She is always there, waiting in the
thighs of winds. She sighs,
and pushes his head way up inside her.
She becomes wide and wise and she reddens
with the width of his tongue. He whispers to all
the wonders inside her.
Her skin is the desert of shadows and desire.
Her skin is a canvas of wind and gold, and
only thirst satisfies thirst.
Originally published September 2007 - "Saucy September"