You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
i want to touch a leaf
i want a black eye i want to sleep in the grass i want bruises on my thighs i want mosquito bites i want bloody knees i want to wash my face with dew in the morning i want to have a nosebleed i want to wear makeup and not cry it all off before bedtime