Virgins
VIRGINS
Little long after the moon drank the sun;
Far away from home underneath a baobab,
With my heart in the palms of my hands,
Pumping petrified blood down my great vein,
In a skin that peeled with fear,
I laid dazed, in a honey maze.
The sweet fragrance of her nectar joggled my senses
As I searched for my name in between her thighs,
Deep beyond the thicket that bore the truth and the light:
With every touch,
In a portrait of passion and pleasure,
She painted my future.
With every thrust,
She wriggled in glorious accommodation.
And as her dam burst,
She breathed fire onto my embers.
At last, in a melee of sensations unknown
With rivers oozing between our thighs in synchrony,
I found my name, wrapped in the curl of her tongue;
Glorifying beneath the African sky,
A story forever to be engraved on our hearts,
One told by the contours of our steaming bodies;
Years, a dozen and a half from our first cries of 1987.
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