your two eyes worship some evening farther sky than the four winds around us, breathing with our sighs perfumed taste tantalizes, in metered measure as waves of warm skin rise, toward strong pleasure only where the sacred kiss touches desire; hunger where your quickened heart ascend even higher as my lingering love gives voice to your song, waves lapping restless shores, all night long: then a still, white dove lies, with entrancing smile underneath the sly moon's beaming magic wiles.