Body Language

My tongue, my lips, speak kisses, words, and taste
you, love. I tell my truth with carnal speech,
and you make utterance – naked vowels -out-faced
to me in tender causerie. The reach

of love defined by tips of breasts, bent knees
and fingertips. Extremity’s delight
contained, fulfilled in limbs. In matrices
like these does love find means and so recites

its joy. But poets use measured talk and line,
whose borders loose the captured sense. We catch
the meaning, let it walk, no more confined.
Ties body thoughts that we leave unattached.

Just as ideas in verse’s form are meshed,
My love for you’s interpreted in flesh.