Jeremiah 17 (written while listening to Leonard Cohen songs)

Like a tree, you found me:
You kindled a fire around me,
leaves and petals killed by your pen,
hearts ablaze from the ink spilled on your fingers.

Who praises iron?
Yet a lady's breasts may inspire the words
of a thousand poems, like the twining and untwining
of our thighs, lips, ears, nose, eyes.

Like a tree, you found me,
and fastened of my wood the finest bracelets,
slipping over your arms like iron pillars,
riding your breasts with ink-stained fingers,
burning like words against your cheek.

Who praises iron?
Yet a lady's breasts may inspire the words
of a thousand poems, like the twining and untwining
of our thighs, lips, ears, nose, eyes.

I burn like a leaf for the taste of your thighs.