Southern Porn

The full moon atop yon pine, prodigious, yellow and precariously perched

brings words like turgid, and tumscent to one’s mind.

The gently sweating cooler causes steamy, sultry, and torrid

to rush to your tounge.

Things waft and burgeon, the very air has a palatible texture

soft, silky, and damp

Scents hanging in a veritable miasma of sweetness.

Enormous Luna and Spinx moths flap by,

sipping from moon flowers that are popping open

like tiny explosions, hemming one in.

It is all too momentous, weighty, and substantial.

Fireflies flit about, providing neon lighting for the edges of the woods

while blinking their message of sex.

Shrieking crickets, screeching circadas, screaming frogs, and harumphing gators

all incessantly beg for love

shattering the serenity of the night into nonexistance with their ceaseless need.

 

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