As soon as love showed its base intention,
a relic of his manhood stood, a ghost
whose shadow rose and fell in time to catch
a swallow casting its silvery glide
opening her passionate lips to speak:
When will you love like I would have you love
my body so my heart would know the soft
touch of a man, yours, stir ash to flame. . .
(21-22-23 April 2014)
copyright 2014 by Floyce Alexander
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