Pamela II


More ripe than summer fruit, your figure pure
betrays a face aglow with innocence,
yet whispers sensual hints with such allure
my body rings in perfect resonance
with yours. My senses hot to passion’s run,
so set ablaze, this fool, I nearly stumble.
Now to touch, to taste, my mouth to fashion
words to move you to my bed, to tumble
from dark ‘til dawn, through daylight, dark again.
Yes! Our bodies dance this celebration,
a Madrigal of joy, it is no sin
this flesh upon fire thrown, this fun!

So leave us, twisted minds and go away.
Too bad you know not how to love and play!


david coyote
October 2, 2001
Revised August 14, 2004

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