A Flowering Flame
Vines of heat
root inside my gushy center
unfurling and stretching
from my magma core.
Blossoming out of nerve bundles
the syrupy tang froths
from the mouth of my
volcanic cavern.
They have come.
Rocked by eruptions
and quakes
the urge to shake more
as the tingles
vibrate my pillowed walls.
My body an instrument
tuned by fork-like
fingers.
Play me hard;
ride with me on the crests
of sultry, sensuous waves;
lie in my sudsy warm foam;
and swirl on the simmer
till we smoke.
As the moon rises,
my petals fold up,
cooling.
Basking in a fog
made of cream and sweet lull.
