HOÀNG-ÂN:  Tropical Night


Was it me or the river dreaming?
Eyes that's brimming with shadowy longing
Of crimson lips and lascivious tongues
Anticipated kisses and yearning bodies
Submerged under the silvery net of crystalized stars
The burning skin and dying caresses of aching morrows
Floating apart like dissipating clouds without a face
Witnessing the exposed flesh wet of tropical night sweats
Wavering licks of a lustful fire.

The jungle leaves thick with desiring flowers
Rich latex dropping drops of burning liquid
The curves, the nocturnal voluptuous
Cupping filled space in thirsty fingers
Sucking in the gasps still sensibly suppressed moans
Darkness conspires the 
Whispering merging of laborious craving.

Was it me or the midnight rivers listening?
Was it me or the midnight waves glistening?