You take him, barefoot, to gardens,
and read lovers' sonnets to him; and in
the large, extended barrel, nightly, you gather
starlight for his eyes' delight. You reveal
moonrocks' substance and assumed origins to him.
No old prudes' prejudice interferes with these processes.
Your well deployed kisses and caresses
cause him to engorge, eagerly erected;
and the SweetSeed his core has confected
is ready to launch, released to achieve splashdown
upon your now naked body.
Starwardist