Your shoulder blades are butterflies,
swathed and bursting from
Your back a decrescendo
where my lips devour
Your spine that drifts as
lullabies--undulating choruses
that roam along
Your rolling hills of buttocks
that smooth paths amid
the reeds toward the valley of
Your knees, two tender treasure
chests of golden setting sunlight--
kaleidoscopic rays that glimmer gently on
Your toes, those several heirs of
ten ecstatic kisses from
My mouth that hunts and giggles at
the flesh between your thighs and to
Your stomach where I sit so I can
look into
Your eyes where the sunlight's growing
cold and the moon glows vast and clear--
but frosted over slightly by the haze that is
Your lashes splashing spider legs
and shadows 'cross your starry eve of
Lips that I would kiss
until the sun ran dry of magic
and the earth disdained its spin.