I Remember

I MISTILY remember my very first

Plunge. Wrapped close in vodka’s sweet, warm blanket

I stumbled with my giggling Aphrodite.

She was, to me, the entirely beaut-

Iful, but so drunk was I, a moist fruit

With cored-nook, more than Heaven (even bru-

Ised) would have been. But her eager wet-

Ness, warmed with woman’s flush, began that night

Of febrile fumblings, synthetic starts and

The weakened will of Desire’s wanton wand.

At last, with volcanic idleness, Influ-

Enced by dawn’s golden glimmer, dormant yet

No longer. Life’s spray captured in her tight-

Ness. My vigorous fountain pooled then, in

Nature’s flawless chalice. Then sheath to bin.

Published by

The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

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