Though life howls
as it goes, I can still
taste your sweetness.
Taken from the body
of the one I wait for.
And when the moonlight
starts to seep,
you and I will be there.
To catch the plum-flowers
when they fall.
Your lips, your breasts
as tender as young leaves.
I drink, but still thirsty
I want more.
A Wandering Poet 