For Hermien

The cusp of home
The display head down
Warm and rich and inner down
Slippery oyster frills around
the twist now over the line
The post and
chequered flag signals home
in an ecstasy of welcome inderhof.

The tongue that kisses you and me
Moth-wica wusha
brush my unshaven cheek.

I rest there on the
tropic mound to feel
to steady-up, to smell
you here, to see and touch
your hara
Ab ovo synecdoche