Dark River

You asked me to write
a poem just for you—
I took you to the cemetery instead.

We wandered among the graves,
drank wine, smoked a joint,
found a soft patch of grass under a tree.

I lifted your skirt, panties gone.
Overhead, the moon emerged
from behind a cloud.

“Is this a sin?’ you whispered
then licked my ear.

My words filled with
the dark river of desire,
the touch of your hand
a swelling like rain.