Auricles Loves It's Midsummer Dream Poem by James McLain

i may say it, i may play it, yes even
you have felt it, in you alive, it swells,
it is true, what you feel, is it's truth,
nothing false,
or you would feel it untrue, inside of you.
you have ouched it, you have pouched it,
you try to couch it, your way is not wicked,
though unsure, of
how to hide it, given time, you will do it.
you would if you could, i know this is true,
because it is in you, to love it.
this is not bad, it is the great truth in you, is it
love, how you squeezed it, loves it blue.
this is it, this is your mind, one in a million, kind
yes, it's a rare find.
you are gentle, you blush it, you tease it, you swell it
it's in you, all around it, neither it, nor you speak,
when it passes, you taste it,
your blush is as soft as your dream of it.
it excites you, so wickedly, still you in your pink,
are it's wildest spoon, a ride in it's dream.
you in it's bed of lush roses, is stuffed in it.
instead of on the floor, bold where you found it.
yes, they are but words of time you wound around
your finger in it, you blush the world in all that it is.
the auricles of loves it's midsummer dream.