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THE RIPENESS OF HER FRUIT
THE RIPNESS OF HER FRUIT
Lord, it is time; bid the fullness of the last fruits and
Allow me to cup my beloveds breast as that fruit is
Pressed chasing that sweetness to the heavy wine.
This is what is felt; is it not above the sweetest of
Mysteries and yet it is so earthly. Praise earthiness
And let us love what is savored as long as we have life.
Long must we suffer not knowing what and how many
Fruits hatefully bitten must we acknowledge before the
Already almost love must we savor in forsaken interchange.
Yes, no one can convince us that the mind is not beautiful;
It is our indefatigable soul that tells us so. For this, we are more
Than ready to spend the rest of our waking life on that fruit.
Chasing the image of cupped breast pressed to wine; I
Have already imagined this as my first commission into
The odyssey of love. Let it imprint itself on my soul.
Fruits de mer et fruits de sex; the sea itself is like an ocean
Of sex. We are all soluble when it comes to love; last night
I got drenched in her sex juices I never knew was there.
I was introduced to female ejaculation for the first time and
What a torrent it was. Let not the old chroniclers of sex tell
Us otherwise. For goodness sake let us all revel in ripeness
