Leather Gloves Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

I've become a wet neuron
Calling on the tails of subspace
Swimming in the pleasure of purple
She opens up the sea

Have you felt the latin coral fire
There in the underground gold
Where blue fish spawn serotonin
Tides with thighs of silk

Lost in stars of silver high heels
Great red rivers of moonlight
Islands flow like G Spot paintings
Bamboo canes sing like redshift paradise

Her leather gloves like a velvet shower