Negotiations for Desire

I want to be baptised in cocktails,
after a dry water birth,
and run my tongue over eggs at brunch.
I blinked up at boys for want, then stopped,
when his gaze could fall on hers like fishing hooks.
I laughed while twirling my matted hair,
savoured single bites, stifled bright eyes.
Glance down, feel up,
sway arms in want of shoulders,
with my hands soft behind me,
I won’t dance to want while eating apples,
or pulling my shirt away from my chest,
But, I want to want.