At What Bend Will You Lose the Path?

At no bend will I lost it, came
my reply, and
my certainty inspired her
she pulled her dress over her head
in stark alabaster naked
ran laughing into the midnight pine

green lace offered wet kisses as
glazed gazelles we passed below
on tiptoe specters chuckling in
dark embrace followed our ruddy scent
sleeping clover awoken angry
coiled by lecherous intrusion

a lullaby carried from Pan's flute
animal melody lurking on
that dark wooded wind
horny forest god hungry for some
hanky-panky in lichen bassinet
on wet rock the moonlit mirrors watched
their voyeur eyes
apathetic stars paid attention
Calisto winked and shook her diamond hips

such showmen we think of ourselves
top hats and tailcoats writhing like
snakes on the stone
shared skin lewd in that nocturnal nest
the Moon in gilded silver paint slipped
silently into the room
pirouetted pretty past our crippled corpses
and
left through morning's door.

TA