The uncanny side of vanish

shined the day you reappeared —

French rosebuds bathed in Spanish

gauze bobbed naked in the weird,

The fête of your crash landing

turns as young as monkey fudge,

spiked pinkness ripe outstanding,

figged brown nipples bloused a nudge —

My mother locked up snowflakes,

jailed the tides, denied them bail:

"You're on thin ice, ..." (my shadow makes)

"if you don't mind your male!"

But now my blade, a squire of sorts,

arising from the gutter,

bestrides inside my jockey shorts

to trudge through the clutter

In watermelon ocean blood,

unsocked, I smell the human sea —

Oh, salty plunge, unleash the flood,

sweet darling, "Wait! I'm free!"