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Beauty sometimes overwhelms me
With an agony that devastates,
As when my storkweeds' dowdy buds
Produce their peashot crimson slits
That, by the following floodlit morning,
Burst into show-stopping conflagrations.
These fierce displays disarm and crush me,
They throw me to the ground with the force
Of an errant pyrotechnic rocket
Detonating as it fizzles to earth.
These too: the shocking, sizzling moments
When erotic gods shoot across my path--
They faze me, looming lewd and lustrous
And wring from me fluids scant remaining.
I mark their passing with gasps and stumbles;
I'm astonished my flaws are still intact.
The glowstars dim; I regain composure,
And pray for further crippling strokes.