Mons veneris


Today they say our galaxy
is scallop-edged
which Botticelli knew
Bold, Venus floats demur in space
above the lapping ocean
Her hair, a wavy waterfall,
swirls strategically down
To complete the sham, her hand,
in perfect, universal gesture
covers up her silky mound
itself obscuring frilly cuntlips
nestled round a little

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