A Serpent In The Garden

Allow my fingertips to caress you
As my eyes would trace the lines of a portrait
My lips to linger…
On the unspoken words of your tongue
My hands long to move a crossed your flesh
Like the smooth stone of sensual sculpture.
To peel back the canvas
And expose the pigments hidden beneath,
Bright reds and soft pinks.
The Muses sigh, her subtle winks
Are more than just passing fashion.
I have built for my love a tower
Erected to honor the arts of our passion.
An obelisk that must rise
To crash against the waves of love, in action.
A serpent has entered the garden,
Its slithering scales brush gently against the leaves.
Its fluttering tongue moves quickly but intently
Seeking the sweet musty scent of the gardens center
Faster and faster the serpent grinds its flesh
Against the smooth wet walls of the garden
Thrusting deeper and deeper,
Until finally the well spring
The fountains head
Shoots forth
Drenching both the serpent
And the garden
With its warm fluid arch
And we both fall back
Like the threads of a tapestry
Unwinding.