A bed of moss
A wilderness of desire
just entered,
exuding
a welcoming smell,
the perfume of Nature's boudoir
laced with human sweat.
Cupid's soft, mossy bed,
embroidered green and gold,
sweet, woodsy velvet,
fringed with
moist meadow lace,
finely webbed leaves,
luring
maple sugar from a tree.
Each blade of grass
softly licking
every bloom,
tendrils of ripening vines
dripping a bee's honey.
Seductive clouds
of summer heat
embrace
this budding refuge.
Lying down here
interlocked
growing together,
We grow thick.