Matthew Edward Peterson (12/21/1983 / Salt Lake City, UT)

there is something sturdy about the way
the way you look at me
overlooking my flesh
  like a wolf ready for feast
and sweets 
    seducing my curves
and the swerve in your eyes
 and the moods no surprise
i feel the knowledge of your hands
and where they have been
and how they move against me
so pleasant tree
    the rough ness in your palm
  as they brush with my pores
    like a spore with a sponge
plunge against me
take my shape
take my world
and my sores against yours
be the doors to my body