I borrow your tallow
Grimacing your nightshirt
And creases on your breeches
Full blasting speeding echo.
My well wisher prances
In a porridge-bowl
Of chances
So fragrantly green garden
You leaf toward my probing.
This molded dust of diamond feign
Callously discarded my garments
Till only he wakens
from jasper-filled slumbers.
Gulp down the syrupy fire
Long in the goblet's confines.
I will unveil
My fresh
Supple
Shrine
Only then
This Prince
Remembers.
xiomara demeterio
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