My love my dear
like a black-crowned heron
you throw off the chill of night
stretching your wings
before the gold light of
a cold hearted moon
permit me to
touch you where
your triangular patch of hair
remains baby-soft
a tight curliness
silky strands
wrapping around my fingers
let me suckle
like a hungry infant
the buds of your flowers
until a swell
flows into them
warming my lips
gently touch
the rise of my arousal
and guide me into and
through the darkness
as I compose orgasmic
sympathetic symphonies
from the music of the melting moon
until night's paradise dictates
your return to the dawn
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