Wendy Sullivan

Between the lines
a cleavage of thought
betwixt and between
round mammary spheres...

down the valley
the mount of olympus
vying with venus
that divine abode

Upward thrust
bearing down
lifting lunging
thrashing plunging
cries and moans of ecstasy

astride the thighs
lovers twine
inside outside
weeping banks
flanks of honey dew.

Now the point of exclamation
only the gentle soft gyration
round hipped rides
rhythmic slumber
aftermath of tidal flow
lapping lazy 'gainst the shore
bodies beached hunger spent
twice blessed; coupled coda.

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Panic! Poets

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