She is a flower filled with poetry,
A book with intimate images,
I open pages and petals, seeking,
The clear ink still flowing liquid,
With which love's words are written,
Close and closer to more clearly glimpse,
The swirls and whorls of glistening verse,
Carnal cantos in cursive citing,
Chapter and verse, stamen and pistil,
From which desire and poetry will be born.
Donovan Baldwin