over that bridge

Hyacinth garden

over that bridge
there is a need
to make sense
of nocturnal intuit

in a dance so sweet
elusive in expertise
that creed was for the faithful
to study the cross they wear

cold tracks hover in small talk
years of exquisite ache
your wounded devotion
with pink anecdote to hang on your burden

no smoke and mirrors can gloss over the need for stimulation
a mouth licks soft the worldly crimson
primal body fading on perpetual lips
without language they float over the knots

a feminine call like winds wail
over the charms of her face
pleasuring can bring such delight
with surrender is the loss of will

see her petals fill than spill
the feverish compulsion that possess
passion traps the siren’s heat
and serves the supple body's scent...

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