- Non-Erotic Poetry
- smoldering in lunar embers
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while a sword rusted
on a dry mound
of cool moss
suffused in moonglow effervescence
stung by aerial starfish
i was smoldering in lunar embers
wondering what her...
trying to remember what her...
skin tasted like
under the endlessness of bright star-flowers
blooming in an interstellar nothingness
as dark as rich black dirt
i was smoldering in lunar embers
wondering what her...
trying to remember what her...
skin tasted like
and when the gray morning murk
was being burnt away
by a celestial rain
of flaming petals
i was ablaze in a solar bonfire
knowing what her...
remembering what her...
skin tasted like
like morning dipped in honey
