Like a staircase leading to gables of my crannie
I in cups among the truss of my mind’s rafters
Like a satyr on two legs becoming the swill’s goat
Cossing over the moat of my poetic sanity
With the aid of Merlin’s wand in my hand
And raptor’s pen to defend my sins
As you knee at my lap with a little toe tap
With a seductive grip on my pawn
Shedding your corset of whale bones
Standing in front of me in all your naked glory
Smiling as you grip my pawn tighter
Showing me your wanton need
Like a staircase leading to gables of my crannie
And the ossuary of dead words
