The Night In Goa

Sleep, my love, near placid waters Under a pale moon that lights the way, Mosquitos resound their ranks to attack A humble cottage where you and I stay. I forage through your hair like the tiger Whilst you rest your head on saffron pillows, I press my lips hard against thy milky breasts, Watching your eyes lift to gaggling swallows. Your resisting thighs give way to my stern will You make love as burning hearts confess, Never shall we come again to this sweet valley Where the fermented nectar of rapture is pressed. Have I found you forever, O flower of this land? Hand in hand together, as we jaunt though the sand.