sloping in a manner
  where outside the brindled
  world, light bends
  like all else in loose wind

  i can almost see
  and make out with what
  secret blueprint your
  body works in its
  mischief - or with what feast
  welcomes the bounty of
  your secret passages.

  take this now. a pint of ether.
  or something real like
  this look on my face harpooning
  your eyes unknowing of their
  consequences.
  just the subtle hint of
  what my mind tries to
  unclose in you makes
  all shadows of my body frenzied
  with tantric thought of doing
  this and that and so much more
  than just
        this and
               that...

  like squeezing juice out
  of the freshest fruits
     or watching the rain
   taint everything in picturesque
     detail - or ****** of
   butterflies on a clad flower,
    or what the sea haplessly tries
   to engrave on the shores with
    its frequent, frothing thrusts
  
    or making it all perpetual in
   motion trapped in the bona fide
      moment. say, i will
   feign a moment of
       colliding into you and
   feel your surrendering force
      imprint small indentions
  without confiding in the exactitude of this domain where
     i have you lured into my song
   like a child put
       to sleep.