Moonbeams

These iridescent moonbeams glow black like fertile soil. Eroticizing the smell of freshly ground coffee, richer than all the underworld. With a dance upon my senses, the moonbeams sing with fervent lips. Praying a whispered prayer and humming a silent hymn, they embrace my filthy glory with delicious awe. Moonbeams so pure— clashing yet blending into the night's bruised complexion. As the burning sensations of daytime shame fade to the cool of twilight, I breathe a sigh of relief. My poetical lover has returned to my side. Forever within my soul he will abide, wrapped in the ice blankets of my frigid heart. I melt only for the light of the moonbeams.