Her bare body eager paper,
Her bold fingers gentle pens,
She begins the poem,
First with cursive letters
Wrapped around the hills,
Across the valley,
Up and down the twin
Pillars which guard
The altar of Aphrodite,
In place of prayers
And incantations,
Gathering gasps and moans,
Summoning to the entrance
Of Eros, to the rising
Altar of her desires,
Flames leaping beneath
Each touch upon
Quivering skin,
Each entrance into
The sacred portal where dwells
The tiny idol, which,
Rises and quivers awaiting
The paean of desire and need,
A song summoning ancient wonders
Unto the single sacred spot,
That swells and bursts,
Filling her with
Overwhelming pleasure,
Which brings
La petite mort,
The small death,
That she has sought,
In solo exploration of,
The outer edges of pleasure.
Donovan Baldwin