For Gavin
Help me hold it. If I wake tonight,
will you place your thigh against my crotch?
I'll pillow you in pubic hair, so light,
so curly and so warm. Let me watch
your silver chest descending as you sleep,
illuminated by a square of moon.
Shift your weight slightly, should I creep
up with an erection. It’s too soon.
Move again and bring your leg to rest
a little higher. Close to tears, un-
able to dissolve, I will confess—
I’ve got to go, to piss, I’m dying. None
could endure such torture. “Hold it in,
babe. This is love,” whisper with your shin.
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