Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall,
How I’d wish to love them all.
An angel for a night to sleep,
A passion for my heart to keep.

Fluids drip drop down her spine,
How lucky I am to call her mine,
Whomever her may seem to be,
Resulted from my fantasy.

Its lonesome here in darkest night,
I’d love to come…
And take a bite,
Of forbidden fruit as sweet as lore,
Tasting lips and basting more.

It’s hot and heavy in this bed,
I’m solo here with marvel dread.
Reflecting on my loveless life,
I crave the scents of a luscious wife.

Our love fills the room
The basso continuo of your voice
conforms and mixes
with the song of the string
that you strike within me
resounding into heaven
- heaven, heaven

I bend my branches
with you, I ripple thoughts
of you all over you
I drink the rest from your cup
pressing my lips where yours
still kiss me, in heaven
- heaven, heaven

Outside the storm dances
something free, it runs away
around the corner, into the night
which we make wait
while we stay here
in the light of heaven
- heaven, heaven

Alas, making love

is the worst, so self-conscious --


we are, both of us.

~
taking sides
picking flowers
dead and buried
on the surface line

counting hostages
trading stamps
extended infinitely
at right angles

cozy spaces
married couples
perpendicular
legs and mingled stria
one over the other

It's all conjugated
hyperbola
a tourist trap
with zero interest
for a year
~

~
I cast my net
                  into the tributary

and release into you, a seasonal swim,

I give to you a mother's color,
        as you recite
        infant hymns,

                    you're a bleeder
on the days sunfire meters out its origin,
                    you're my river

free and clear from the grip

      of anchorage,

                         my river,

drifted on to wherever
                       moon wishes glister
~

Many men make declarations of love when they want to make love,

But rare is the man whose love remains true

when the consequences of ******* are brought to his attention.

beau·ti·ful
/ˈbyo͞odəfəl/
adjective

1. pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically.
"beautiful poetry"
Similar: attractive, pretty, handsome, good-looking, etc.
Opposite: ugly

2. of a very high standard; excellent.
"she spoke in beautiful english"

𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 𝗹𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗿𝘆.

the inside of a woman's ****** is full of verses that you'll forget your name. stop telling me that woman's fallopian tube is only the meeting place of a ***** and an egg cell because metaphors and punctuations develop there to create pulchritudinous metrical-composition.

𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘀𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝘅 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗿𝘆.

the moans and groans implanted on each other's ears will create proses and poetry, the handprints on the wall, the clothes you both threw on the floor, and the smiles and giggles you threw up create poetry that only you and your lover can read.

𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗮 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗿𝘆.

                       [ the space between her thigh
                          the gap between her teeth
                             the veins on her arms
                            the marks on her belly
                         the darkness of her brows
                      and the bristle on her armpits
              i'm telling you that these are parts of poetry ]