all of the angels and saints
a peeping tom posse come
out the closet of your smile
and i'm an elaborate contradiction
nostrils aflame between the constellated marble
of your nocturnal thighs rotating shaky
my beard's growing floorward like embarrassed eyes
collapsing into this new mountain hermit look
i embrace the ferocity of your voluptuous drive
my lungs yearn to huff it
and await each return with
the patience of a monk
I really like this one. Great imagery here.
Post a Comment