Organs in a bag
tanned white
by repeated care.
Shaped into
living marble,
too few round edges
hint and suggest
hidden spots
secret, private
ones fit together
each, adding to
a part, all adding
to a whole.

The hole,
the one and only,
though the one
like oh so many.
It could be yours,
if you had the guts.
It's in your reach
if you crave it enough.
Remember there is one
just and deserved word
we fit onto
such madness:
that is
r.

Venus is a saint,
you are just a dog.
She shall protect
the treasure,
she will keep it safe.
Hidden behind curves
and edges,
it will keep
you late.