I furrow
Through the night-darkness
It seems we don’t make love
With the lights on – Let’s say that was God’s gift
Fate’s way of making us “very special”
Made for each other in odd’s disequilibrium
And we don’t bungle our way
Through switches or care about how beautiful
The intercourse of brawn and beauty is
We only have our senses – your perfume that knocks
On the olfactory sensors and ruffles the sweetest spots
Your hold – as you undress me- leaving finely-thinned
Follicles a little combed and free
Your perky bosoms I cup and taste
– seemingly a perfect fit into my world !
And your beautiful vertebrae that drip my lips
Down your spine, around your sultry waistline
Planting baby kisses on your navel
And when we finally make love
I can only feel my body knocking windward
And your frame shattering like a kite
And touch seemingly imbues and radiates
From tip-ends, until we are lost to the brink of Braille
Translated by our bodies
In to Hieroglyphs…….