Call Me Clematis
what could I give you
but the quick moan that lifts out
and back into my body
a quiver and hardly a noise at all
what more could I give you
than each blooming tremble
you unfold me,
your tender touch
smooths my collarbone
and grips my hips
intent, intense
you are so present
so moved
by my muscled quivers
I feel swallowed
or maybe
I swallow you
maybe we’re consumed
consummate
and still laying
smile to smile
all our heat
gathered between us
a single drop
of spiced sweat
at your temple
and I alight
what more could bloom,
your sweetness and caress
sink deep into me
flush my skin purple
with the heat of it
and I bloom,
petals yawning wide
your rain my breath
your heart my trellis
I am no single flower
I am the vine sprawled long
and reaching
as far into soil
as high into sun sweet sky
and you are no raindrop
you are the river
birthing clouds
stirring storms
to conjure rainbows
and all for this moment
for this shared breath
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Sarah Hennessey is a queer poet of color living and working on a horse farm in Pennsylvania. They are polishing a poetry collection meant as literary representation of the polyamorous, omnisexual, genderfluid experience, particularly as it intersects with being half Nez Perce and half Irish.
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