You, mine,
ever-untouched
a local distance,
my unexplored
smallest thing,
my yet-to-erect,
my yet-to-strip,
huge-to-be mistress,
still without a cry
under me, here,
your Fisher King,
moved, no place,
a groin-wounding.

Listen, please listen,
I want to tear you apart,

this is my loudest
most immoral of pleads,

to be the next witness
to your dropped guard,

to have you bared now,
bring yourself on to me,

opened, turned out.
Honestly.