Your Ambrosia

To lick your ambrosia syrup,

Lap up the nectar of sweet orchid,

To Taste everything exuding,

Inserted tongue into your pink butterflying,

Squirting orgasmic contractions,

Showering rosebud,

And jazz rhythm toward climax crescendo,

This passion is the eclipse of the sun,

Undeniably elemental,

To be made of each other,

Her flower nectar and your warm pollen,

Become memories in your minds bark,

In the forest of your thought,

Be the mighty spruce fresh

with terpene cleansing,