Our souls, achieving Love, taught the poetry
of intimate pleasure to our bodies---namely
our attentive lofters and their jewels, to
our exploratory hands and playful feet
(not often shod, then).
Parents, prudes and haters loudly disapproved
of our Love---so that our encounters became
surreptitious: in sheds, outbuildings, and the
banks of Verging Creek, where the channel was most
shallow and narrow
(like those who deplored our Love). But Verging Creek
sheltered us (shoeless, shirtless, clad in baggy
cargos, our stripey socks damp from the water):
your flesh a cup of glistening SweetFroth---which
I gladly imbibed.