I could embrace his luscious nation
His salacious sway, his smoky space
Emblazoned in good-tasting stupendousness
So poetically paced, unremitting deepness
Augmenting through the space shuttle
Of his mental, glasslike dreams raveled
In moonwashed magic, marmalade peach
Lips I want to lock my lips on, escape away
Into breathless paradise, delicately brushing
My fingertips against the outline of his mouth
Fervently fondling with his mustache
Victorian black beard so full and thick
Like a treelike shrub as my palms
Find their resting home on his majestic beard