Twenty-One Love Poems (The Floating Poem, Unnumbered)

(The Floating Poem, Unnumbered)
Whatever happens with us, your body
will haunt mine-tender, delicate
your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond
of the fiddlehead fern in forests
just washed by sun. Your traveled, generous thighs
between which my whole face has come and come-
the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there-
the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth-
your touch on me, firm, protective, searching
me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers
reaching where I had been waiting for years for you
in my rose-wet cave-whatever happens, this is.