Let us make love in another language.
Let me pull at your heart strings with an American twang
Undress and discover you in conquering Portuguese.
Let me caress you lovingly in Latin American
Have designs on you in well-cut Italian.
I will show you I can do what the Cossacks do
On the Russian steppe and bareback at that.
Before tumbling efficiently in German
And cavorting in Croat.
But I might need to lie
On a mat
We could be perfunctorily Danish
Or make a meal of it in French.
Orientate ourselves in Japanese
Or make eyes in Icelandic.
Be blissfully Belgian
Even phlegmatically Flemish.
All I know
Is that the very thought of
Being taken like tapas in a Spanish bar
Or warmly wrapped in Mexican tortillas
Is enough to bring out the linguist
Just as long as it is you.
By Simon Denegri