Because the beauty of your ****** is not a sin.**

I saw you in the twilight
Disrobed in the state of nature
And I gaped and gasped in awesome delight
Spellbound and elated in rapture
As I beheld your voluptuous features
As I gazed upon your priceless treasures
From peak of the mountain
I went down to the fountain
In the valley of your mons veneris
And holding on to your alluring pillars
I have been transfixed at the altar of your estuary
The estuary of your conjugal sanctuary.

I saw the falconer trading his falcon
With the bounty hunter for his gun
Lost in their lust for your connubial offerings
Spellbound by the allures of your charms
And I came in the fleeting mist of the fleeing night
To behold you even before the Aurora Borealis
And saw you embracing the heavenly light
As Father Heaven kissed Mother Earth
And you were enchanted in heavenly mirth
Oblivious of my winking mortal eyes
Hypnotized in the ether of celestial bliss.
At the unveiling of the beloved daughter of Eve
Made perfect in the bowels of boundless love.

Let the fire be kindled in my heart
The eternal flame of my spirit
The breath of eternity
The ether of life formed in purity
Born bare and born free
As my enchanted eyes can now see
Freed from the chains of pains
The pains of natal travails
Oh! Woman! Thou art the vessel of motherhood.
And in thy mammary gourds abound our first food
How much every man in bound to thy *****
For from the canal every man is born
Through the third eye of Eve where love flows
From the seed sown the fruit is grown
The sweetest fruit of love is found in the ******
To behold your naked beauty is not a sin.

~~ Orikinla Oosinachi, 2006.

Libera me, Domine,
de morte aeterna
in die illa tremenda
quando coeli movendi sunt et terra

dum veneris judicare
saeculum per ignem.
Tremens factus sum
ego et timeo,
dum discussion venerit atque venture ira:
quando coeli movendi sunt et terra.

November 21, 1976. 11:00 P.M.

With nothing
he packs his suitcase, turns
to his own personal prophet
and watches and waits
and waits, he will wait
for an hour.

And finally
the prophet speaks
in monotone, three short syllables.

He opens the door, careful
not to wake dad.
Turning the corner,
the suitcase jars the door ajar.

A stirring from upstairs.

Remembering the face of madness
behind the pulpit
behind the door,
he races out, fearful
of footsteps drawing louder
and with them, promises
of pain.

Desynchronized glances,
evaporate
into long, ravenous gazes.

Each of us is a mirrored pool,
a reflecting pond,
that the other could swan-dive, into,
facefirst, and drown in.

We drip hotly
and melt, for each other,
like simmering rivers
of molten candle wax.
I twist around you
like a curl, of oiled hemp.
Your fingers tense, grip,
and peel back the skin, of
cotton thigh highs
as your face elongates,
and your mouth, moves...

languorous tongue,
trailblazing downwards
from the mons veneris,
to worship, devoutly,
at my sacred shrine, below.
The slippery wetness,
of exposed thigh
slicks, and grazes,
your stubbled cheeks
tenderly perfuming
the tensed column,
of your working throat,
with my feminine scent.

We interlock, tongue and groove.

Your tongue tip flicks the nub,
back and forth,
like an ignition switch,
as the engine hums, to life.

You stoke my fires,
with every lingual stroke.
You blow my torch,
into a fervid flame
that spreads heat throughout
the inner chamber,
and you warm your face
in its baking, radiant glow.

I bite down, delirious with ecstasy,
into the skin, of my own tensing arms;
wrists bound, in python restraints, overhead:
resisting the force, of the virulent scream
forcibly spreading, throughout pink lungs.

Yes...oh, God, yes.

I churn, from the hips, down
raining, into your expectant face,
mouth pealed, helplessly, for the scream...
and the sunlight breaks overhead
as I smile brightly, and collapse, around you.

...Oh...puddin'...have mercy, on me.

Now...

we separate,
and interchange places, smoothly.

Your hands, dig, into the voluminous depths
of loosely bound, twin comet tails.
You wrap their trailing, cherry cola ends,
around tight, clenched knuckle fists,
as my lips, purr, against ever-expanding skin.

Don't you dare...let go,
of these handlebars, baby,
as I rev up, hard,
hit a wet patch, and SLIDE.

....Hold on tight, to me, and RIDE.