Although they are only breath

Come off the map with me...

Let's fill our bellies with raw mushrooms and rare meat,
leave roads and fences, compasses and signs,
push out to where the copper earth shimmers on its rim,
where dragons crawl like flies and all logic dies.

The sun calls us here like a vast brass gong,
plants without names spike our legs as we pass,
the landscape is dreaming and sometimes it has nightmares,
there are no words for the shapes it throws up.

We see giant bones and claw-prints of creatures
ancient and ravenous and lost.
Maybe there's a reason why the road doesn't come here.
Sometimes there are borders that perhaps we shouldn't cross.

We have no navigation, my wanderer, my journeyman,
just the mad heat and the burned, uncharted dust.
Walk with me now under a sky that makes no sense,
let's scare ourselves with the sharp edges of our lust.

Our skin can't serve us here, where only rats and reptiles come,
let's ditch it for some glittering desert flesh.
The darkly drumming dirt deranges our dimensions,
and our eyes will never look the same again.

Our ears hear only the percussion in our blood.
come into the shadows under this red rock.
Let's give ourselves to rhythm, we don't need speech anymore,
we're banging on the boundaries, the frontier fuck.

And I never wanted Bambi in my bed, only this
demonic, demolishing, devastating dance,
out here on the fringes where the instruments don't work,
too far beyond the track to ever find our way back.

Come off the map with me...

Behind the sand dune the skinny trees weave a twisted grove
where the puckered seams of bark,
The tightly creased grass,
and the salty grains of soil couch granules of light
the pinprick pearl residue of our congress

The filthy radiance of our fuck
Leaves a bright scraffitto,
a vandalism of light,
the messy sparks snagging here
where your knees disturbed the dust
and there, where my head pushed backwards
into dry leaves, as my eyes failed,
and a blinding flare flooded my horizon.

And we may well be nothing more than middle aged maniacs
with dirt in our hair,
who'll jump each other anywhere,
so long as we think no one's looking,
but your body is as beautiful to me as lightning,
my flesh shines at your touch,
and together we make a holy monster;
the blazing beast with two backs can see
further than either of us alone,
and it rears and cries,
and it looks past our tiny lives,
and the bewildering sprawl of civilization,
back to the hissing fusion of opposites,
the absolute intimacy of creation.

And when we are dead,
and our incandescent skin has dimmed,
and hangs in blackened rags on honeycomb bones,
our electric limbs are stilled by soil,
and the flesh that I have loved so fiercely
has all gone into the darkened tomb,
our luminous leavings will linger here,
haunting the impassive dune,
testament to a time when the base matter of
our lustful bodies was transfigured,
and we laid ourselves open to possession by light.

You bring out the wolf in me,
the latent lupine carnivore,
sniffing at your fur,
and eying the fine flesh of your neck
with unreasoning moonstruck hunger.

Our mouths meet and feast:
our teeth together are terrifying,
an edgy onslaught of ivory,
half afraid we'll devour each other,
howling and sabre-toothed with lust,
leaving two scraped skeletons tangled in the leaf-litter,
atoms of desire still exploding
as we disintegrate into dust.

All the better to eat you with, my dear.