let fall
your canopy
eyes
over me.

and make
me beg
for soft
gestures
of touch
and exhilaration,

the turning
of one
to the
other,

the giving
of trust
and compassion
to new
things.

like pickings
of berries
in  a
bakers
flour.

waiting
to become

something

beautiful.
delicious

to your
awaiting
lips and
tongue

and mine...