HER

Her Hips that yield
Their syrupy sweetness
That lift and grind with each caress
Soft, luxuriant petals that unfold
And vibrate with heat
Molten passion
That flows
From her center
Like honey
Dripping drop by sugary drop
Into caverns of sleep

Her Skin whose scent
Is intoxicating
Velvet smooth to the touch
Dark and think
Heady with sweat
Overflowing with desire
That speaks of moments
In the dark when
Their hands touched
Beneath the red lanterns
Her Lips that speak
Words like lashings
That taste, that lick and moan
And curse the hour of her birth
Soft balmy, cool caress
The voice of her imagination

Her Embrace knows no boundaries
Her body is fruit
Her limbs water
She opens, and welcomes
Feeds the weary traveler
Who having tasted of her flesh
Grows strong again

WOMAN

One must be born of water and of the spirit
One must be born a woman

Open, vulnerable
Soft, gullible,
Vicious, malicious
Vile
Desperate and unchanging
An Ocean of turmoil
Loins that catch fire, then bleed
Hair that reaches out like manacles
Velvet lips that kiss
That seduce and whisper
Fits of red rage
Uncontrollable outbursts
Discontinued thoughts
Blank, meaningless expressions
Jeweled and spiked passion
Skin that crucifies,
Eyes that pacify
With every stare I see the tigers caged in there
Beautiful and gentle
Desirable and distant
Breasts leaking milk
Raw passions
Inflamed eyes

A silhouette dancing in the moonlight
Beneath the stars

Hearing ancient cries
Hearing the earth,
Hearing God
When He too was Woman