i often, longingly, of your striving pinkest
lips do eat by my own lips curling with
them into a neat pile of tremendous ***

i often, strivingly, long to eat, of your chests
pale basin, the apt fruit of your *******
i, longing, and strive with the savage
electric lash of thy fragrant throat

i dance and marvel at your feeling
my chest hands
                             i drink of them
and i'm etherised smoothly at
their hot rumple of my skin

and i you just can't barely

for thou art the dripping
rill of Cupid's apt *****

thou art, between darkness
and light, abruptly hung
with my flesh (from which
is sated thy lustful flowers
perfectly glistening petals
'neath me and groaning)