Flowers

Between the tips
of fingers lies a space
so narrow
that only the thinnest
of delicacies
could possibly remain
uncrushed.

The slenderest
of passages,
this filtered
gap requests
the surge
of some fantastic
splurge
of tender touching
vibratory
jubulating,
rendering
in muzzle
whispered
wetness preened.

Atop this flowered
mansion crests
an eye though sightless
none-the-less
sees all
and knows all
and feels all
and makes for itself
a nothing less
than catapulting
fancied fix
and forayed
razzle besting
blaze,
toothless
in its
wonder.

And it is
from here,
the clitoris
measures all
and makes
of its home
a transformation
of the world.

runningturtle87