Thousands of needles - Made of light

Thousands of needles 

Made of light 

You are the bee

And I am the horse 

Scattered howling 

In the snow 

Opening my pores

Frost bound beacon 

Swollen and aglow 

You pricked me

In my dream 

I feel it

I know 

The redness of your sting 

Pounds against my skin

The little prick of blood 

Warm as a rush 

In the heart of my tattoo 

Cool and stealthy 

Trickling and tickling

I love to be pricked by you 

This little death of sex

Keeps my David healthy 

As you bury your head 

In the yellow steam

And pollen 

At the engorged heart 

of my bloody poppy

In dreams the light is broken

Sunk beneath a dark blue river

All the colours flowing 

In the currents above 

I am a fish, 

looking up your skirt 

(Your rectitude, your virtue)

Hook me 

Catch me 

Gut me

With your dripping pink and soaking bait 

Bee stung I sink 

In this little sea of pink

I long to swim 

In the ocean of your flower

Each motion diving lower 

Lusty sinews buffet

Against the roaring torrent 

Petals coy unfurl 

As boy meets man 

and woman meets girl 

Diving before the pearl

Of the aforementioned rectitude

 (or virtue)

So please forgive my being late

I wish to come to pluck the rose

In the garden which you cultivate 

I'm standing stiffly at your gate

Only to discover 

It's just a wet dream 

From which I shudder awake

All stung and hooked and bleeding 

Covered in freshly ejected semen

Let's get undressed 

and jump back in the lake 

The light-lake of needles

That I masturbate.