Lunacy Renewed

Nik Boyd

the full moon rises once again.
another night of lunacy must pass,
but settles over me instead.
oh my head,
oh my poor benighted brows,
straining to sense the she-light falling,
senses peaked to the utmost,
noted and noting and
nothing and doting on
her languorous leggy
and cutely cunted
copious capricious conjugation
commingled in our communion.
her moans mouthed mournfully,
her pants and sighs and
fleetly fingered thighs and
wetly pouted and petaled
flowering labia opened and
opening and deeply so,
and sweetly so
and oh so so
oh yes so.
the stone buddha laughs fatly.
while compassionate,
he cares nothing for my suffered love,
he winks at me
for my stiffened prick,
that benighted stick
that strikes no bargains,
but only wants to be
a long sighted and 
longing guided missile
aimed once more up her love silo
into the night sky.
it would shoot down the moon so bright
if it could only quite or requite her love.
so bright, so bright the night
filled up with moonlight.
no sight but what might
shimmer and shiver the light.
her light falls like strands of love
her gentle hands that provoke,
her gentle tongue that strokes
notes from my flaunted 
erect and fluted skin,
fleetly tongued and
found me panting
or breathed alongside
or beside myself with love
or ecstasy or madness
or bold breathing,
wanting only more.
more light falling down,
more moon-ness and lunacy
so sure. so certain. so firm.
no difference comes over me,
like the light itself draped o'er me
like a shroud or cowl or clothing.
it fits the whole body unto itself,
and knits the skin a skein of laughter
and beknitted united love.
kiss me again with your lighted lips.
kiss me again with your sighs and signs and breath.
oh spirited breath.
oh weather born winded,
circled and soundless
roundness standing so still and bright
in the warm night sky.
tell my love her love awakens my madness
and magnified by moon and lighted by rooms without her.
where is she? where, when here would be so much better.
only she can take the edge off
of this sharpened shattered night.
her roundness rolls me
up and down
and 'round.
her curves sublime
the math-made mind
that measured nothing
and found something quite sublime.
oh something, some little embodied and fragile love
that survived its own birth and growth to now.
what madness raises up its heady marvel.
oh mindless uncautious love!
oh fuck me soundly and senseless!
oh moon and lover!
oh swoon away and lost again.
oh too much and gone
this can't go on,
but does so anyway.