Tigress-like Resting Under Limpid Pistil Torches
walking out of the sea
my baby digs me,
blushing, crawling, prowling,
nursing the rhodas with delicate perspiration.
My baby leads me.
to burn, to scratch, to heal.
tigress-like resting under limpid pistil torches.
While stamen soaked alphas secrete anther (rather satyrically) ,
She milks her young like a wet nurse honey bee.
My baby feels me crawling up her dress
pollens float off her plum lips like thirsty bubbles
I kiss her until the sun breaks,
and we dive into the sea.
poem by Jerome Moore
Added by Poetry Lover
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