I want a surfboard
hard used and worn 
wounded by years of 
being flung on the sea
I want it to live
 propped in my doorway
as if waiting for me
to ride off on the waves

I want past lovers
who number in hundreds
from exotic places
of which I wish to have seen
I want them all
too suffer in anguish
for want of my love
and wait yearning for me

I want a body 
unblemished and supple
of bounteous proportions
and youthful appeal
I want to wear it
with pride and affection
immense satisfaction
for the universe to see

I want adventures
mightier then pirates
more passionate then knights 
laying love at my feet 
I want the world
and all of its beauty
caught like a moth
in the flame that is me