She’s coming,

Clutching knotted cotton sheets, she’s crumbling,
A cake I crack ‘neath twitching teeth, she’s tumbling,
Jigsaw pieces pound the ground, my tummy’s rumbling,
She’s running,

Crawling, creeping, sneaking, tiger stealth, she’s breaching,
All my best built barriers, by bounds she’s reaching,
For the sacred inner circle soul, he’s screeching,
She’s stumbling,

Over booby traps and fictive maps, she’s pouring,
And quenching, all my fiery fear with honeymilk, ignoring,
Every faintly muttered protest, moan, she’s soaring,
She’s reaping,

Now closing eyes, now weeping, sighs like drowning,
Thighs are pistons, arms gossamer wings, he’s frowning,
Envelopes me, her piebald prince, she’s crowning,

And coming.