- Erotic Poetry
- Sanskrit Erotica
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The conventional form
compares each body part to fruit or landscape elements.
Lips are always cherries; the forehead a field.
One night I bury you in apples and mountains.
Lotus fills your mouth, pearls trail bonds around each thigh.
On the mountains, goats clatter,
I lift them off like toys and trickle them
across your brow. Ice caps
make your nipples even harder. You have become
a bed-collage, bigger than a house
with your body's ranges and fruit. I climb you
my journey over fields of wheat and hair
takes years.
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