What Is All This Thinking Of Love? Poem by Karin Holloway

What is all this thinking of love?
I only wish to hold him again, to roll over his bumps
And bruise my insufficient character
Plaster my image on his psyche, stick it on, slap
his plaster into my form and burrow inside.
There's no more to hide.
He's seen my nipples and fertile crescent
I've seen his two holes for one and felt his tongue.
All that's left is disclosure, disrobing inside.
Shred my stuffing, teach me something
Make me make me, baby, don't lose me in love.