5726 Pleasure

When I think of pleasure

As the gods, 

I remember that you expand 

The dominion of your being 

Over my being 

When you attack 

With your tender skin 

On the worn surface 

Of my ambers. 

You emboss on the metal 

Of my senses 

As in metalwork, 

You melt your nectar, 

Your mead, 

Your ambrosia 

And forge me 

A silver armor 

To cover the desolation 

That lives like 

A bad tenant 

In my heart.

The foundations 

Of our connection 

Are like the walls 

Of the New Jerusalem.

I saw in your eyes the union 

Of our souls 

Like the harmonious fusion 

Between moss and stone. 

I inhaled your essence 

When our bodies 

Intertwined 

Like the perfect symbiosis 

Between the wall and the ivy. 

I perceived the tickling 

In my solar plexus 

As a gentle dance between 

The wind and the grass.

I confess the enjoyment 

Of touching your embrace 

And looking at the pleasure 

In my mirror and your reveling 

In the indulgence of delight. 

In that insane moment 

My heart is 

Made of stellar talcum powder 

When you are 

An American bison 

That grazes 

Pleasure on my body.