For Jewelry, My Teeth

In lieu of jewelry, you may borrow my teeth. Sharp and simple stones, strung Along a ribbon of pink gums; warmed inside My mouth—that hearth which knows your shiver And your drowsy drunken sigh.

Wear them as you would my gaze In mid-August when you strip Away your clinging cloth and naked, Court a fan’s cool breath. Wear them about your neck, your collarbone;

Grazing all your beads of scattered sweat. Wear them just to feel Their provocative weight, flirting With a lip, an earlobe, an eager nipple; Wandering your voguish flesh,

Bartered between discerning hands Along the tradeways of your body

Worn with unrepentant pomp Upon the hillside of your hip

Stolen then from daylight by a bandit whim And smuggled under bolts of silk and lace

To your pilgrim lowlands, lawless and wet With dizzy summer heat.

There, I would wear you As languor wears the patience of need; My tender ornaments to plunge, slick In the wash of your estuary Where your coral drinks the sea.