the music of his pulse chisels a silk brocade
that tattoos over my pelvis in amethyst's shade
his refection dived into my eyes
lit up my insides like fireflies
that strum my eyelashes like Orpheus
and weave roses on my Sartorius
his voice chiffonades the air I breathe
kiss crusts my cheeks with gold from Hera's wreath
he showed me that the world of love
is my womb that bestowed my tiny jove
it is still bedecked with his tiny footprints
sweetened with his smile scented with cherry mint.