Current and Tide

Current and tide obey an unseen force
we cannot challenge.
No less power pulls me to you than
drags oceans across land.
The smell of your hair,
sweet and pillow matted,
fills my lungs,
moon summoned tide halts its retreat
to gather and roll upon the shore,
perfect template,
bent and shaped to fit pool and inlet,
relentless scour to twist and shape
the ephemeral sand,
so solid underfoot yields,
helpless to the wave.
Useless eyes close to
concede until tide recede.
Blinded in the riptide,
driven by hunger and smell,
I kiss the changing shore
of your spine to find
the sweet cleft that
hides the wellspring of all my desire.
The soft globes pry apart
to yield your tender portal.
My prehensile tongue,
crazed by slow cooked musk,
residue of the nights sleep,
digs and paws for more,
as the smell of all life
fills my lungs and floats
my brain beyond my skull.