Nameless lust, faceless love, absurdist, 
An abbess today, a belated succubus
Under orthodox sunflower
Beam, queer night satellite.
Vulva’s voice all husky mumbling 
Things lucid and elusive, like:
I am not what I love, 
I am not orgasm or tongue,
Lest I am sunset,       
Else I am nothing at all
But the all-encompassing sensual, 
Delicate, celibate 
Sex in flux.

Natural light, fetal mannequin:
Womb’s heroin chic pageant queen.

You, lock-jawed lotus, withering
Stem, quivering 
Latex, healing—
Why unfurl here?
Why here you ripen, ripen, bend downwards and return to the depths?
Why drown here in the deep sweat of my palm?
I even dribbled a pool,
So what of my lick be poison,
Little Bondage Ophelia?

elusive i