Pomegranates

 

May I touch your

Pomegranates,

No, fingers away

She smiled,

May I see your

Pomegranates,

No, they’re saved

For the sight

Of my lover at night

She toyed,

But if you close your eyes

You may kiss them,

So I did ...

And to my surprise

She slipped me inside

And in that dark, closed

Eye vision I saw the history

Of love from before Persephone

And Zeus and eons past The Stones,

Then she served me golden milk and

Told stories of Tantra and Kundalini.

 

Stephen Nesbitt ©

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