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.