what hence may come
denied that we are
become whom we may
to touch the earth
to know truth of all that
to be truly dead
what may be
has already been
her touch sublime
her smile taunts
yet she walks away
to touch her
imperfect mind, to caress her
perfect form
her imperfect tongue
pours forth that which
can never be unsung
to love that
which is un-divine
to love, that is enough
stay your judgment
judge not yourself like others
but love in entire
touch me now
make me a god entire
a universe unto itself
words flow forth
form complete thoughts
until now
to touch my love
so unreachable, so far
yet…
crying out in verse
that which cannot be unearthed
except in song of passion
no feelings have I
but love of Love
and all women, become all
touch me now
and feel the power, yet
fall short of glory
too much love
not enough mortality
to share with all deserved
of such
come now
ye mortals worship
of love in essence
too much love
flowing forth from the river
help! stop this madness
touch me
god and goddesses
frolic, laughing
taste me
feel me
and scream
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