Love Poetry For Couple

all saturday evenings should be like this, caressing your thigh while reading neruda with his odes to matilde's arms, breasts, hair--everything about her that made him a part of this bountiful earth-- lilies, onions, avocados--that fed his poetry the way rain washes the dumb cane with desire or banyans break through asphalt-- this is the nirvana that the buddha with his bald monks and tiresome sutras never knew or else he'd never have left his palace and longing bride-- the supple feel of your leg in my hands for which i'd spin the wheel of karma a thousand lifetimes, more Geoffrey Philp