Her wild, velvet need
is a smile, like a naked question
Her deep, feline dance
makes his fever flower open;
wakes the secret prisoner
celebrating the delicious lie
of cool, liquid why on why.
Shake off the question
or
surround vast eternity
like a woman
pulling and sucking.
Give God some of your lip.
Laugh icily,
growl, crap, kiss, bleed.
The yesterday-you is over
Eat cake and pie then listen:
Warm, caramel trust
can squirm in here.
Embrace this blind child
Say yes to her desire,
perfuming the morning
with your ocean voice
and remember.
Yikes!
My fever flower has been touched, Kathleen. And now with my morning perfumed, all I can say is—thank you, for the chilling and delicious ride on the edge of my nerves!
Awww! Thank you Betty. I can feel your love!
Thank you John, for receiving Francesca.