Watt Her

with doser in hand
walking the land
scape waiting
for a sign
that my

rod may tug
like a fishing
line letting
the bobber
sign

what i've tried
to find i've 
found 
under
this

mound that
is damp to
touch and
smells of
musk

surely the
search of
what i
came
to

find is now
within my
grasp or
at least
a lick

fluid flowing
as my tongue
digs deeper
into what
this is

i simply
end with
a french
kiss

musei do not know?

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