Such a sweet and marvelous torture:
You’re asleep. I’m watching your hips,
And my mouth is all but approaching
The miraculous curves of your lips.
And your hand independently dangles
From the bed I would love us to share,
And the circle has infinite angles,
If you’re patient and willing to stare.
Does it matter that matter is void;
That your grace is a chaos of atoms?
Maybe God has been unemployed
Since he gave up on Eve [and on Adam].
Now I’m strangled and poisoned by lust,
And my hands are cunningly creeping
To caress your lily-white bust
And to fondle both roses it’s keeping.
And this torture is hard to resist,
Should I quit? Should I leave you alone?
I’ll be endlessly kissing your wrist,
Till you smile and blissfully moan.