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Click hereMy grateful nostrils widen to embrace
those waves of tempting resonance
those shining overtones of sweat that taste so right,
so close, so loud, that press relentlessly upon
my agile lips, a rolling, ringing tone
pulsing like a rich vermilion, like a
haunting howl, a sapid siren
whose downy stroke ignites
a tapestry of prickles, keen like fire,
of piquancies
a tangy touch
a silken timbre
incessant beat of roiling blood
and every ravening nerve demands
you whet my lush crescendo of desire
An assault on the senses, but never an affront. An orchestra of sensual imagery and some delightful language play.
I love the poem overall, but it is also full of small gems within that make me smile, like the partial rhyme between siren and fire; the alliteration of 'haunting howl', 'rolling, ringing tones', and prickles and piquancies. I still quibble about the agile lips, but I would likely find at least one thing to quibble about.
I like this alot, AH. Its sibilance brings a sensual, musical quality to the poem.
I happen to think titles are important. I was unfamilar with the word. Once I looked it up, like good background music, it added to the poem.