Fruits Of Tribute
Poem by Masiela Lusha
When mores bind this flesh and spirit
Into one man of mortal pride and truth,
When two drops of tranquil waters
Fill his sight's hollows with tranquil views.
When his lips spread wide and part,
Let this follow as white delight for me,
And when his fingers erect against my skin,
let me catch it for flying modesty.
When his vowels draw steady and right,
Please let these words be right...
Be right, and right with famed morals.
And let him speak, so I can hear
These trophy words of 'love'
And 'dear, ' And when he breathes,
Let me watch his clean puff of air
Raise the values of his speech.
When I meet his curtained eyes,
Allow me to find light, beneath
And underneath, or even through,
Just a slender gleam of this would do.
And when his mouth shapes into 'you'
and 'me' and 'us'... please let me note
For however brief, the sudden weight of Love
Unadorned, please unadorned, with powered silver lies.
And all his charm of touch and smiles be buried
In my hair, my eyes, my skin, beneath my spirit's shifting sea
And let all the bidden fruits of this man's tributes,
Please be truly plucked from the garden of me.
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