Snapping Turtle Love
Too easily we speak of passion as kisses
and offered flesh, and all kinds of softness.
How about desire jagged, a broken bone.
a compound fracture of jut and edge?
My love’s a snapping turtle, heavy and
hard in its single dimension: appetite.
I’m cunning as shadows; I’m a lurch
wanting to spasm; I’ve rocks in my belly.
I’m also patient, open-beaked and
ready. Make a move. Come on!