beyond metaphor

As I ponder that still veneration
of those eyes glimmering with decay
I'm left loving the lips that formulate release
and the hush of her diminutive lure.

with the same gestural delicacy, she lulls thee
to be sexed in vaguely lit edens of dusk.

for fire simply designates the essence 
and the malleability of our flesh when drenched
left glistening with perplexities
nometaphor shall quench.