Wet Flower
Teaching a Woman
Of the seductive mechanisms of man
Upon the voluptuous vagina.
Guiding her lips to the tender
Wet flower of another woman,
Expressing necessary patterns
Of oral explorations.
Expanding the learning curve
Of an acquired taste of pussy.
Sharing visions of climbs of ecstatic
Heights between two flowers and their branch.
Ah, if nipples could glance at watery truths
In the eyes of Venus,
If bodies flowered like wine
Through the halls of dire desire
Lit by an unquenched sunset beyond
The bodies of buildings,
Along the railroad
Going nowhere fast,
Unrelinquished circles plowing through time,
Regaining the same volume in the same space,
So they taste and they think while they drink
The purity of my manhood.
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