The Raven

He is wild eyed
Raven hair
Always grinning too soon
We don’t talk when we kiss
There is no point
He knows
I can feel him watching me
With tender aggression

He always turns me
Onto my back
His hand steady
As if he’s wanted me
His whole life

I love him abruptly

I imagine lying with him
For a long time

He is just himself
No one else
Chaotic and seething
With passion
Lustful
Always tempted
Wounded
Deeply alive

I sigh
As he looks at me
With those sharp
steel blues