Plush crushed blush,
Rubber-dry, readily moist,
A beating eruption of blood-red sea,
Tempestuous,
Kept taught by the net holding your flow from me,
Your hot lava compress
Present in seduction
Yet tensed enough to issue
The light of your star,
The brightest, whitest LED,
Violent in its permeance,
A mystical pearl
Unattainable from afar,
Wrapped by a crimson ribbon I long for mine to touch
And compound those pillows of life
When two is too much,
To jump from the figurehead where I come to think
And with the weight of an anchor
Sink, sink, sink.