A Story About the Body

You had imagined the rosebuds of my nipples. You were both fascinated and repulsed. Aroused by what you found. “So this is grown woman’s body,” you must have mused to yourself. Do young men have these kind of thoughts cross the lurid vista in their minds, mouths gorging on breast’s ample flesh, palms tremors running along my thighs in your fervor to them, fingers plumb coves, fathoms for which they are not prepared?

Young seafarer, go back home, you will drown in these depths.

In sea, the skies face

Sees Neptune’s sons, lust’s ichor:

Birth of nereid.