midnight throne seat

show me
the planetary shift
you command with the switch of your hips

i’ve called you a queen enough
that now is only right
for you to make my countenance your throne

i breathe you in
saffron, honeysuckle and a touch of sugar
drunk by the incense burning between soft thighs

there, as you let me
savor what heaven tastes like for believers,
is a galaxy for those with willing mouths
and silent desires