strawspun fires

Strawspun fires catch can
Warm offers of beaded fired corn
Strung and lined on silver thread
Wreathing writhing jeering and gyring
We watch in wonder
Wanton and wanting more
Such richish mouthful words
Trenchant as vaulted oysters
Drunk with the musky Muscat
Liquor lining of our lips
Hot tea, sweet sheery, a jade kiss
Sipped slowly from an open half shell
Curiously tinted of cinnamon

Between athwarted skyward thighs
There my lingering love lip lies
To have to hold and hold again
Catching stopgap breathe, catching can
Rich deep secrets driving deeper still
A river flows quiet beneath her heart
When I return I’ll turn it down
At what turns up and out again
My eye follows lines across the curve
Wishing only to be the hand that moves
Off and away and down and in
Thirsty fingers fingering a way
To find a new way to your heart

I scribe aspiring
With all my pretty whiles
While the writhing hand
Having writ is asked to go back
Please make my last line
Another funny bit