a low moan in the soft afternoon
the shine of sweat on dark breasts
as they heave in acquiescence
to the power that channels heat
through the body like the sun pulls
busy fluids through the stem of the flower
in the dark orchard shadows
a low moan in tune with all the sounds
of the late July day
oh my head throbs in palpable vision
drawn into eyes like a vortex in the waters
and all the titivating wildness of this soft afternoon
fills out all awareness in the white noise
following the falling away of climax..
Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.