My day exploded in your night
And my letters came to life
In your bed, all the poems
In my heart took shape their
In the undressing of our lives
Silently we approached
The hour of the Goddess
And all my dreams
Of platinum literature
Took root in the tree of your womb
I open the lips of your night
Without speaking, but with
A lifetime of poetry carried
In my soul, like golden grapes
I give to you the shadows of the moon
The whiteness of infinity
Your rose burns through the snow
Your flesh dangerously close
To the dawn, and we repeat
The cycle eternally
Male and female, active and passive
Lovingly with all the sleep
And literature and art in our bones.
Wuji Seshat 
Beautiful.
Thank you, I try to make it a pleasant exploration. But this obsession with gender and sexuality is pretty hardwired isn’t it?
Indeed it is.
Reblogged this on Mr. Modigliani's Private Studio and commented:
Very tender and moving work, with a hint of eros, from a very talented spiritual poet.
I think most passionate poets have written something like this a time or two.
Yes I suppose they have, erotic poetry is much neglected moreover. Poets tend to write about the same boring things.
I’ve read your poem a few times today, Wuji, and it’s lovely. Thank you.
Wuji, if she’s a Goddess, why do you present her this way in the photo?
I like the poem very much, thank-you.
Tara
This is excellent.
I’m glad you can appreciate some of my more risky work. 🙂 Have a good night Dana.
I missed this , don’t know why. I think this is one of your most evocative writings, subtle and erotic. Love this piece.
I’m glad you find it so! I don’t write like that often, that’s probably why you missed it…:P
I have reread this again tonight, I think it is one of the fine pieces of erotica I have read, you are truly gifted with expression.
It is one of the finest pieces of erotica I have read, thank you Wuji.
That’s so beautiful! I shall attempt to set you aflame again har har.
When I read your name I think of Brian Adams…fond memories of listening to him when I was a kid.