deepundergroundpoetry.com
That Dark Door
Gracious, she sips the wine,
as if a blushing bride,
delicate as morning light.
They both know there is
no stopping now.
Inside of her, he is
born again and again,
Her innocent infant lips,
seek the nourishment of love,
a lifetime's feast in a moment's dance.
They writhe and flourish—
blooms in time's vast garden.
When the dance ends,
she steps through
that dark door,
where all must go.
as if a blushing bride,
delicate as morning light.
They both know there is
no stopping now.
Inside of her, he is
born again and again,
Her innocent infant lips,
seek the nourishment of love,
a lifetime's feast in a moment's dance.
They writhe and flourish—
blooms in time's vast garden.
When the dance ends,
she steps through
that dark door,
where all must go.
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