unanimous mutiny

I am driven by a need to pursue myself in you
in a sort of finding and opening and sliding in
and mindlessly pounding with mindful and
mindlost force, with a purpose that is
at once
yours,
and mine: hard,
ruthless pursuit
of joined pleasure, but honestly
mine, most of all or it feels
like mine - and with you
the giver, and yet I have hopes
(or afterwards, will)
it will be your call
as to whether and was
it good. Oh I should have
been bound like a gentleman
to a gentleness, by compassion
in every cue or coo of your
unleashed breath - and I was,
I guess? Your reacting and active
and venturing touch, your reflex
and form, in gesture and flinch
- taking everything, I am sure
all such cues shall suffice
to guide, and guard, and warn,
and entice and grow
a voracious awareness of mine
to turn the pursuit, to all means
and ends of yours in such good use
to let two selves go. Yet driving
such need, I cannot be sure
whose purposeness is whose,
anymore. Plus the need of my ego
released off-leash, to run -
is my drive to give all you want!
To impress and fulfill even myself,
by impress and fulfill of you,
or it was no good. I probably will
run to ground, to basis, to premise,
proof falling apart, without knowing
or skill, as all everythings I've
ever learned are coming unmoored
in an overwhelm. I can't know for
sure upon whom I shall then
have bent all my will, in such artless
and natural art, where two captains
have taken the helm, and let the ship
steer to shore or to see, absorbed
in a course of their joined
and mutual good,
on the bridge,
for pretty much all
the crew to see.