to flow all over

I am filled with love like a melon
with seeds, I am ripe and dripping sweet juices.
If you knock on my belly
it will thrum ripe, ripe.

It is high green summer with the strawberries
just ending and the blueberries coloring,
with the roses tumbling like fat Persian
kittens, the gold horns of the squash blowing.

The day after a storm the leaves gleam.
The world is clear as a just washed picture window.
The air whips its fine silk through the hands.
Every last bird has an idea to insist on.

I am trying to work and instead
I drip love for you like a honeycomb.
I am devoid of fantasies clean as rainwater
waiting to flow all over your skin.

[Marge Piercy, 'Morning love song', from The Hunger Moon]