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Opus In Silk

She who holds a seamlessly symmetrical silhouette
so supple to the touch
coupled by hips on sticks of tango, that inimitable set of pins
simper at all that you clutch

Bob nearer the eyes of delight
now attune and bound for that which you pine.
sweet quarry in search of marvel, of unmoved bliss
of skin against skin and devoid of the wine

Posture within posture you exude the line
that this foreplay is vessel to where
and piece in arriving where you began
tender so to flatter the tips of foothills
and the tally of the gentle man.

He fastidious with his touches and the gather
Dosed with melodious songs of time
that dance inside a stone-solid nightstick
making shape of fervent ferry
perfect in rhythm, poignant in rhyme

Edging toward frenzy, blinded by light that cuts athwart
He in whisper, you in shiver, ever-soft, all through the night.
You embrace and clutch that which you won.
Two mere afloat - amid sugary scented, tepid milk
and silk of a tensile strength higher than the foil.
Both in concert but as one.

Revel inside the puff and wail delight
bask in pallid threads of all heavens
and darkle with enchanted angels.
Blush, preserve the sevens and elevens

Yelp at the moon and talk in tongues
assent to leer toward implosion
Near slumber now, etch precious
beside the scent of the richest of teas
and bouquets of nomadic autumn

Sleep over leaves that are green
and kaleidoscope-vivid
enhance your reverie and tempt the pungent perfume
of the tenderly-parented Pinot

Swell the twang of yesterday’s wine

End of Story