Psalms of Love (#3)

Can I fold a strand of your hair 
Around my lingering fingers? 
The silken string it weaves 
Around my wanton heart 

Baptised by your being 
Whilst fire, whilst flame 
Your body becomes 
A rising sun 

Melted by the scented sound 
Vulvic moist drips through 
The deep of the luscious wood 
Craters of carnal flowers 

Passed the belt of orion 
Oral composure 
Finnally understood

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