a seminal prayer

the velvet points,

to the mind,

press warm

around the neck,

craning full, out,

to fill the table

with stretched bowls

of cream, and cry

these tears in my ribs,

always dropping my eyes

two there, together ambrosial,

the amiable neighbors, for now

I ask Good to ground oval relief

from this smooth penchant

that would banish me far

as the velvet hardens

and mind goes cold

in a doubled wrack.