Experiment*

*Long ago someone had asked me if I could write pornography; this was my tentative essay in that genre by way of reply. Later, I was told that it belonged more in the realm of erotica.

Those are honey sacs your lips,
perennially sprung:
opiate drips
for my tongue.

In your breasts’ ambrosial streams
my mouth slakes
the thirst of parched dreams,
as my body wakes

to life – or woos sweet death
in the final flood,
my final breath
expended in your luscious bud.

***