Lingua Amoris
Beaujolais and baguettes
Are the lowliest of the myriad potions
Romantics carry around in their portmanteaus.
Ecstasy and epiphany rank infinitely higher,
In the pecking order of aphrodisiacs.
Poems composed in the lingua amoris
And read to a naked lover
Are the ultimate in intellectual sensuality.
Seized, I begin writing a magical lyric to twilight.
Soon, I'm caressing her cool-breeze breasts,
Reveling in pleasures undefiled.
07/29/09 - (3)
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