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@ 27.055 MHz: Ad Astra; After Reading Vergil's Eclogues
Look quickly, carefully, toward that copse of trees, and
you may glimpse them---briefly---as they meet
among the vines and foliage; naked, tumescent,
their long hair cascading around their shoulders; as
slender and agile as the fawns of spring, and as skittish
(especially when the intrusion of haters, or other brutals, is
sensed). The kisses and caresses they exchange are as
delicate as the music of celestas, a resonance you hear
whenever you draw to such exquisitely erotic beauty;
exquisitely erotic adolescent beauty.
They have ascended, and like to linger upon, the
peaks of uninhibitedly sensual pleasure; and, as
you gaze upon them, they (oblivious to you)
attain the release of their sweetness in similtaneity,
while you, amazed at their presence---which is poetry---
achieve it without effort, spontaneously.
Starward
[*/+/^]
