Picture this, my Lord:
A devoted Lady slowly slipping
A long dark veil...
Letting it fly in the sunset’s wind
When at last, a hungry soul is revealed,
Unashamed and all covered of old gold dust.
Glimpse this, my Lord:
Surrounded in mist, there is a Lady
Blue foam in fall on a smooth back
Moist spread and shaped
By Self-caressing small hands
Peek this, my sweet Lord:
The lady gently bending her head,
unfastening a tight bun...
from where a gold array of hair drops...
Inhale the scents, my Lord:
mist and moist and foam
Suddenly arousing from the Lady.
She is turning back and sliding...
Straight towards you!
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