Day: Mar 22, 2017
It must be Spring!
In reservoirs of lusty not so laissez-faire
[whose skin I yearn to kiss],
I search incessantly for loveness in the air.
My well of sap (no more dried up)
is rising through my veins with Spring-tide-
superfluity (no more the incongruity
of wasted nakedness), while all of me
is songing-longing to be (w)hol(l)y shared
within the juicy temple of a goddess
(though [so far] she’s never there).