Softclock Foray 1
Soft Clock Foray #1
He serves her armadillo heart
to four knaves under glass,
and tones her angst with creams of slight.
He pours himself a generous sea
from under her Ouroborean eyes,
to slate his endless urn of thirst,
and milks her breasts for sweet blue
syrups.
He rides the pulse of her loudly sleep
to meld a silent crash
that oozes verse from myriad wells
which seal themselves with stones of light,
and brilliant are his tongues for her.
She knows this all and yields to him
circles of small vanities.
Copyright © Robert Boyd | Year Posted 2020
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