So long a stretch of skin

I'd spend a century traversing it,

To pinch and prod and build within

My mind the parts I cannot see,

The braided muscle fibers bundled,

Bound beneath their neat white sheaths

Of tendons wrapped in hypoderm,

Elastin, adipose, and nerves,

Calcium columns branch and arbor,

Smooth protrusions shape your hips,

The soft red muscle, wet red blood,

And made by these the bright red lips.

So long to Night, good morning Sun,

Who builds the walls and clothes of light.

Those woven waves, photonic rays

Render our other senses blind.

So long sweet flesh of my beloved

That leaves our bed when morning comes.