Whispering Hallow

So much birdsong slow boat surf
and sky, and waves that light and light,
that braves the trembling orbit,

and I knew when I entered her I was,
high wind in her forests hollow,
negotiate a treaty between cowardice
and lustful trust,

Fingers whispering sound that floats along,
and my thigh impaled on a lance of tongues

honey flowed from the split cup
on the tips of her breasts on her navel
along with the privilege of her nipples

and my breath
howling into entrances
through lungs of pain…