I Stand At The Silver Sage Gate Poem by Michael Fischer

She hides her petite vanilla frame
Inside the heartthrob silk sheets
Where the hundreds of threads
Massage her body's every valley
With their summer splash succession
From the sheet's plate tectonics

Where her dress of classical gold
Rides up her acrobatic legs
Revealing the peaks of her thighs
And rivers of crystal ecstasy
Rush through her blue Nile veins
Into her melting rave red heart

And as she slowly dwindles down
Beneath the Elysian silk sheets
I stand at the Silver Sage Gate
Waiting to greet her with a kiss
From my heart of rising fireworks
And swear her in as my angel