She called it amoral ripeness.
The moon with its sensual pull
aglow for stepping forward
to make love's basket... full.
Damn near like a vessel
filled nearly to the brim.
Her haunting beauty glistens
and rocks the core of him.
Amoral ripeness, too full
to be moved and shoved.
Lady moon you fit just right
like a tailor made glove.
Del Cano 2005
1 comment:
Wow........this moon, the words....haunting and dramatic in a good way
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