Her gaze, a naked seamstress needle,
Sews us together cock to cunt,
Stitches her name across my lungs,
Her good graces henceforth granting my breath.
I die as she kneels to
Let my hardness taste the velvet pouch of her mouth.
It tastes the birth of stars.
She is a vineyard,
And I, Dionysus
Dying of exposure every night
Upon her blushing sunscape.
Drowning in the arms of my inamorata,
I am the concierto borne upon her contentment
And she, a covenant between myth and man,
Placed and poised and reared and primed
To reign over this green world
As I die again.
And again.
Originally published June, 2008