love poem #1

Cold as a corpse but
fertile as soil
fresh with bud,
leaves cut yet blooming
as i walk my legs to
this ledge

Trellis of thorns
'round the wounded organ
faltering fawn in the
burning pinewood
still
shoulder to shoulder in
the convulsing sea

Candles in the pit of the throat
atomic number 79
moon gravel grinding
tender palms with untorn rose

Undressed in the stars, us
planetary saints among the
astral rapids --
Your touch the verdant valley