'Linger innocent and still
a moment here with me.'
Temptation keeps its distance
with possibility.
Fascination curls its tines
round detail, down design.
Filagree, they seem to me,
fine cadence, the breath's time.
Intrigue, first contemplative,
sincere, space traverses,
sudden, presses up my thigh,
blinks cross universes.
'Seduction, take this finger,
tongue-trace its patterned pad.'
Savage, gobbling skin, cord, bone,
she feasts upon the hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment