erotic poetry

like eagles on up high
when i returned at sunset
the old west, the old time
in your arms was still delight
i despise my friends more than you
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
now that i have cooled to you
stuff of the moon
royal feast was done
let us pity those who are better off than we are
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
let us plant
of sun nor stars