Divine is the flesh

Divine is the flesh for all its narrow constructs
And the feel of you is angels singing and nuclear holocausts
Purely cataclysmic and soul-clenching
Rising with the morning, I help you to rise
And throw me under with your strength
My fragile underpinnings crumble
Under the smooth machinations of your hands
All is calm and brilliant, wrapped in you,
Watching your eyes glaze and your head drop
As I softly caress your neck,
Licking my lips for the last taste of chocolate,
Touching you as to make my claim
Looking at your shoulders, damp with sweat
Bringing hand to mouth to contain my longing sighs.....