Sonata to Venis
And Desire’s name is Rollerblade
Her tanned thighs in a toned glade
Here at sundown, whose Dark curls
whose lush fields abreast might lead
Anywhere, anywhere luscious and Green,
Swimming through the coolie and Air
whose sweet zephyr triffles her posture?
a trouble I could cure, Her backbone fair
Pliant and Erect, with each meditative stroke
I am Fluid-deeper Taken to her beauty
a spine I could brush my fingers down
I could blow like a candle down her nape
clothed in a cropped shirt. The soft -gown
angle of her shoulder tipped to the peach wind
As if always this sunset was for her
subtle loft valleys and rivers churn
to her body, her body a pastoral Her
lust with its soft shadows and turn
into night. And I am sure when that nymphet
First has sex, she’ll die a little in that embrace Faint
under the weight of this man And his suddenly
leaden Heart, thrusted at her, a tragedy A virgin
quality or luster I could place in some poems forever
There a place for her Alone. there,
a person or guardian awaiting her return.
She glances back a fjord of galaxy of milky
way and endless white stars between us
I am thrust between immortal and her ilk
transfixed and mastered to her shapes.
In a world I can’t recognize,
it must be wonderful. And now the cherry glow silhouettes her Striding off into an Aspen glaze
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