Because it is real, dense and viscous … and beautifully expressed.
The petals of your alabaster flower
sing of pollen too sweet to sip,
too precious to ignore.
Sweet stalks that climb forever
conjoin on lustful ladder; a
search for heaven’s pearl.
Painted stones of slender note hark
the way to heaven; I marvel
at the color of my desire.
Oh, to tread the silken pass; to scale
the stretch of rounded bend where
mountains meet in soft embrace.
Where rolling hills of rosebud flesh throw
flames upon my fire and firmness
melts with quickened breath.
Swing wide the gate to that secret
well, that I may deeply drink
Wrap ’round your tender shoots and squeeze
hard ‘gainst my trellace; grow wild upon
the lattice and drown me in the vine.
How I ache to fill your soil with the seed
of wanting, to plunge deep within
the moisture of the moment.
Babylon itself knew no finer
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