Here we lie, in this Cup of Circe,
Devoured by breathless impatience,
Open-mouthed.

The edge of your appetite, drips
Milk and honey upon me
Like the Lust
Running mad from a saint.

I feel you coming,
Closer--

A cross on the body of my soul.

2.
My god of each morning--
My beloved dust,

Possess me at once!

Undivided!
(Your verse to separate
From my body
Only upon final death.)

And Saturated!

A reach at the
Fingertips’ end, your White Wings,
Like the consistency of raindrops

That fall

To cleanse and reclaim
With no sense of sin.

3.
From within
The soft poison
Of the lotus…I am raped
From
The tree of knowledge,

Wanting to
Partake of this,
Your forbidden flesh.

My soul is determined, even fulfilled,
Feeding on this litter
Of words,

But oh!

Never will I
Feel the tremble of your breath
As it releases
from passion,

Softly caressing the surface
of my skin.

My lamenting body
Sings out,

To my gods and saints—

Fighting the sins born of my lust...

4.
A world like this, it does exist.

I implore you

To unfold

like a beautiful worldling,
prodding at the stem
of such strong desire.

Closer,
come closer—

Where I shall unearth your fruit
And savor it!