Dawn’s pewter hush—then gabbling geese, white lace on gun-metal.
Pearled necks crane like a Baptist choir, rustling hymnals of disapproval.
I smile, wade in, let the cold tongue lick each golden thigh—baptizing their gossip with a cheek flush.

“Here she comes again,” clacks one ole bitty, “buck-naked as sin on a Sunday.”
another, softer, “But Lordy—look at that crescent moon she calls an ass...

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Pre-dawn’s grey burden lapped at breast and knee,

As stroke on stroke I parted glassy deep,

To wash the burden-webs of sorrow free,

Where silent swells—that voyeur—my bare body keeps.

Then limbs grew light, as floating upon sleep,

I let the cool flood enter where heat hides,

Your fingers—wave on wave—caressed, discreet,

I flipped; twin peaks welcomed dawn’s crisp air, gas...

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Her thighs, a moonflower opens—inhales the breath of night,

The wind, my hand, slips through the slit of her dress.

I lose the road—chest blooms, buds swell wet, her light—

Miles, a rising tide, lost at sea, her shore I can’t caress.

The wind, my hand, slips through the slit of her dress.

Buttons free her feral chest—rose in full bloom, my trembling fingers—moonlight.

Mile...

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Her gaze meets mine—where winter waits between breaths,

Firelight shadows slowly lick our chilled skin.

A fingertip hovers, trembling near lips—undressed,

Desire coils like a cat, silent—waiting to begin.

Firelight shadows slowly lick our chilled skin.

Explorers, bare as breath, past our door, trembling, new.

Desire coils like a cat, silent—waiting to begin.

Million eyes,...

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Our moon slips red—eclipse’s voyeur shadow cups her breast.

She lies still, a fawn, beneath my tear-brimmed eyes.

Her breath—dream’s morning dew?—a whispered request?

Light turns slowly, touch between her parted thighs.

She moans a whispered song—arching, “come to me.”

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A lone apple blossom clings inside sticky heat.

She blooms too late—her petals ache with desires.

I press my thigh—her fleeting scent, without mine, incomplete.

The mirror knows my hungers, captive by summer briars.

She blooms too late—her petals ache with desires.

I spread for her—hot breath, the mirror’s caress, skin wet as dew.

The mirror knows my hungers, captive by summ...

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Hot summer forest, sweat and dawn’s faint light,

My feet in time with sighs of willow trees,

Bare cheeks and skin, dew-glossed and shining bright,

My breasts sway freely, nipples hard in breeze,

Moss meets my wetness—harmonies, soft lies

Nightbirds perform their final song with ease,

While fireflies blink out their last goodbyes,

Alone, I’m cradled close by nature’s sweet surp...

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