A Complication Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is your eyes, the problem points
to the sensitivity of your eyes to

beauty, what is seen is always beautiful
and touch seems to be

not just the craving of the fingers
those hands keep on groping and

holding on to someone else's body
perfumed neck and soft white skin

poems that run all over a woman's body
and feeling what it takes to reach

the apex of the skies, revolting and
exploding, and bursting forth in the

so many hues, love oh love, love
on top of love, and love searching

for the perfect orgasmic affection,
what a night! ~`~ ~ ~

corrugated moans like an art of
wrought iron on the rails of the

upper floor, there the stars are kissing
the full moon and the sky is so silent

filled with understanding about love
and its erogenous doings, unbreaking...